


Standing in the Light of Your Halo

by ImGroovyAndIKnowIt



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: All of this has happened before, And love, And will happen again, F/M, References to BSG 1978, Second Chances, playing with time, search for Earth, slooow burn, spaceparents always finding their way back together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt/pseuds/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt
Summary: President Adar attends the decommissioning ceremony of the Battlestar Galactica while the Secretary of Education stays on Caprica, away from the ship's commander whose heart she broke a long time ago.Sometimes, small changes have big consequences.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 181
Kudos: 71





	1. Darkest night

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a simple 'what if Adar survived' and ended up into this timey-wimey beast of a story...  
> This took forever to plan, and some chapters might take more time to write than usual as it involves a fair amount of research, so bear with me! (also I'll keep writing domestic bliss in that other sequel because it gives me life...).
> 
> First chapter fairly quickly deals with the attacks so we can have a basis, and then onwards! (Tory is Adar's assistant, just for kicks)

_“I honestly don’t know why_ I _have to keep telling_ you _this, but the war is over,” she said with a not-so-patient smile as if her interlocutor was too dense to understand. “Now, if we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need to start having babies.”_

Dreaming of Laura was nothing new; such dreams had plagued his nights in the past few weeks as he anticipated seeing her again, but didn’t everyone dream of their first love and what life could have been like? This one was different, though, and had perturbed Bill enough to sit up in his rack and run a hand over his face. He only remembered the last part of the dream, but it was enough to be confusing as hell. The war was over, yes that was true. It had been over for forty years and he knew that well enough, didn’t need any version of her - or of his subconscious playing as her - to remind him. 

Maybe she would remind him today. After all, wasn’t that why she was decommissioning his ship and turning it into a museum? Wasn’t that why she would be here later today? Because the war was over. Retirement had been playing on his mind a lot; maybe that’s what was happening. Surely, it being the last day on _Galactica_ accounted for at least some of the pressure that kept his stomach in knots. That, along with seeing Lee again, giving a speech, welcoming the President. 

There was nothing more to be done than get up and head to CIC for the last preparations, so that’s what he did. On the way out of his quarters, he grabbed the note cards with his speech for the ceremony. There would be no time to rehearse it once the President and the Secretary of Education arrived, so he was having to do it now as he walked down the corridors to CIC, starting over every time he was interrupted. At least, he had the beginning down: the Cylon War is long over.

“Good morning, sir,” Gaeta said as Bill stepped through the hatch to CIC. “Colonial One has communicated arrival in one hour. The President is coming alone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, sir. The Secretary of Education sends her best but won’t be able to attend.”

Laura was avoiding him. Great. In truth, he was half grateful, half annoyed about it - there was no doubt about why she’d suddenly taken herself off the trip. As if they couldn't be mature enough to meet again now. Their story was thirty years old, and the wound had long since closed. What did she think was going to happen?

“All right. Anything else?” 

Gaeta looked down at the papers in his hands before speaking again. “Courier officer's overdue coming back from Armistice Station. They've asked for a full status report on all FTL capable ships, just in case they need someone to jump out there today, see if his ship is having any mechanical problems.”

“I think we're a little bit busy today, wouldn't you say so, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.” Gaeta gives a little smile and Bill nods in response. 

That the President was early meant that Bill had to go back to his quarters now to put on his dress uniform. Maybe they’d also be done early with the tour. Wishful thinking.

#

Welcoming the President on board required the full honours, the ceremonial outfits, the pompous words and the waste of time. But time was something Bill was about to have a lot of, so for once, he couldn’t complain. He didn’t remember receiving President Adar on _Galactica_ ever before, and he wasn’t sure why the man bothered now. Sure, the ship had fought in the Cylon War, but other ships of her time had been decommissioned before without receiving this kind of attention. Perhaps it was because she was the last of her kind, or because she was about to become a museum, or simply because the decommissioning ceremony had been scheduled on the anniversary of the armistice with the Cylons. This would undoubtedly give Adar some nice PR opportunities. The extremely annoying, not-a-hair-out-of-place PR guy had been on Bill’s case about the visit for weeks. This would be over soon now.

Bill was fiddling with his white gloves when the announcement arrived and brought him to attention. 

"President of the Colonies, arriving." 

The suit-clad figure of President Adar came down the ladder and stopped in front of _Galactica_ ’s Commander, surrounded on both sides by officers standing on guard.

Bill stood straight, his shoulders squared as he looked at the President and saluted. “Mr President, it’s an honour to welcome you aboard the _Battlestar Galactica_.”

Adar nodded and saluted back. “It’s an honour to be a part of this ship’s history, Commander.”

Bill turned and led them both through the corridors of the ship. There was still two hours until the ceremony, especially since the President was early, so Bill gave Adar and his two assistants - a woman, and a young man who looked lost - a tour of the ship, even though the President had already seen many Battlestars. They passed a group of journalists - the third one Bill saw that day - who got out of the way to let them pass... or rather the President’s security detail made sure they stepped aside. They checked the main museum rooms dedicated to the war, discussing the importance of peace and the duty of remembrance, then the practicality of the museum.

“Secretary Roslin had one question regarding locations,” Adar said. “There need to be interactive maps.”

Bill had unconsciously stiffened at the mention of Laura Roslin, and his voice came out cold. “That’s not a question, Mr President.”

Adar shook his head slowly, not holding a lot of patience in the face of the Commander’s bluntness. “How does one find the bathroom?”

“There will be signs. I’m sure Secretary Roslin would have seen that had she been here.”

“Things will be a lot easier with interactive maps.” 

“I can’t have networked computers aboard my ship,” Bill argued, holding Adar’s gaze before looking ahead again as they walked.

“Why is that?”

“Mr President, with all due respect, do you know how many lives were lost because someone wanted a faster computer?” It was almost condescending, because of course, the President would know their history, and the lives lost to the war. 

A smile pulled at the corner of Adar’s lips. “She thought you might not agree.”

“Of course, she did.”

“The thing is, Commander, this isn’t a request,” Adar stopped walking and turned to properly look at the military man. “People need to be able to find their way around here. Those will be children, not trained soldiers.”

“I can’t allow a network to be installed on _my_ ship. Not while I’m in command,” Bill insisted right back, part of his irritation being directed at Laura and her messenger of a President.

“Good thing that this is your last day in command, then.”

#

Getting back to Colonial One was a blessing, one that Richard Adar didn’t take lightly. Battlestars, and especially this one, had a way of making him feel like the walls were closing in on him, and he’d never have peace and quiet again. Everything was noisy in there, which made it no wonder officers often yelled.

Now, in five hours, he’d be back in Caprica, and he could sneak into Laura’s office and see if she was done with that plan to remodel the national exam. If she was, there were a number of things he could think of doing, for both of them to have a break before the week’s cabinet meeting. But then the reality dawned on him, and he rubbed his temple. She’d gone ahead and met with the Education Alliance to end the strike. Why couldn’t she understand how terrible for this administration her behaviour truly was? No, he wasn’t sneaking into her office anytime soon.

Her deciding not to see her museum project through had been odd, to say the least, and he felt it had something to do with the ship’s commander, with the moment she’d got a folder with information on him. After dealing with Commander Adama for a few hours, he could see why. And she’d come to him with the best argument of all anyway: if he wanted the new plan ready, she needed the extra day. 

There would be shots of the President and the Commander shaking hands tomorrow in the _Caprica Times_ as they put the last of the Battlestars that fought in the war out of service on the anniversary of the armistice. He’d reaffirmed his desire for peace and remembrance, something the people loved to see. Public opinion was all that mattered, and with the teacher’s strike underway, he needed all the good press he could get.

Time flew while he sat at his desk reading about a new proposition from the Agriculture ministry, but mostly thinking about that break he would’ve made Laura take had she not been so infuriating and intent on destroying her own career She never could resist him, much like he couldn’t resist her. It had started slowly between them, between late meetings, takeout orders and the daily stress of the job. And her legs. Those explained at least thirty per cent of their relationship. That she’d been good at her job until now only made things better. He’d only seeked the best to work with him, after all. Her gorgeous appearance was a bonus he took full advantage of during photos ops. No doubt had she brought him up a few points in the poll.

“Mr President? I’m sorry to disturb you.”

Roslin’s baby bird. What was his name again? Laura had insisted her new aide join him on the trip and report to her, and he’d shrugged and agreed. The young man looked greener than green, barely out of his mother’s womb, with an air of perpetually being lost and/or uncomfortable. Now, however… now was new. He was paler than the white sheet of paper he held in his trembling hands. Richard raised an eyebrow in question, leaning back in his cushioned chair.

“Yes?”

“Word from the Ministry of Defense, sir. There is an attack on the Colonies.”

The President sprung to his feet faster than a human should have ever been able to do and ripped the paper from the aide’s hands. His eyes widened to an impossible size and he held up a hand to his mouth. 

“Get me Hansen,” he ordered, going back to his desk to grab his phone. “Defense,” he barked when the young man still looked lost. “And come back with Foster, at least she knows her job.”

“Yes, Mr President.”

A minute later, the phone clicked, and the shaking voice of his usually steel-minded Secretary of Defense came through. “Richard, thank the Gods you’re away.”

“Have you sent word to the Fleet?” Adar asked. “How did they get past our defences?” 

“Yes, they’ve been informed, but… the Cylons are going to cross off every planet, one by one. Our mainframe is down. I’ve never seen anything like it, I-I... ”

“How is our mainframe down? How the hell did that happen? Have they told us what they want? Hansen? What’s our defence strategy?”

A crash, and no answer.

He lost contact with the Ministry only a few minutes before receiving news of the complete destruction of the Fleet Headquarters on Picon. That explained it. Hansen had been spending time there on meetings and official visits.

A headache was starting to pound in his skull, and his office had become a beehive of people coming and going, buzzing with anxiety, uncertainty and always, always more bad news. 

The document that was placed before him now announced Admiral Nagala taking control of the Fleet and heading to Virgon for a counterattack. This could work, but at the rate the Cylons were decimating the planets, there would be a lot more casualties before Nagala could reach and take back Virgon.

What would be left of the Colonies?

In the meantime, there was something the President could do. Richard steeled his resolve and demanded to be connected to any ship surrounding Caprica. They were close enough now to be within voice range, without being too much into harm’s way.

“You’re connected, Mr President,” Tory said, hanging back and wringing her hands.

“To all Cylon representatives, this is Richard Adar, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol,” he started. For the first time, this statement felt like a burden. The burden of humanity was on his shoulders. He’d never thought he’d signed up for this. Who could have seen this coming anyway? “I urge you to cease fire and offer unconditional surrender. Cease fire. Please respond.”

No answer. He repeated the message, only met with static in response. The Cylons didn’t care. It was only destruction they were after.

When the news arrived that Caprica had been nuked, Adar let his head fall in his hands, exhaling slowly. How was this possible? He tried to call Laura, to call his wife, and every single person he knew, but to no avail. They were all dead. Exterminated. That very concrete notion knocked the air out of his lungs and he sat there for a moment, completely and utterly useless. Aerilon, Picon, Sagittaron, Gemenon, Tauron and Caprica. And that was just the beginning.

Some of the President’s escort ships left to look for other vessels that might be stranded in orbit, for humans to save and take away with them. They had to get out of there and regroup with the military, see what their attack plan was. There had been no other update from Nagala so far. If the Cylons traced back the origin of the signal from his communication attempt, he suspected they’d take Colonial One down, too. When they had all the civilians they thought they’d get, he ordered a retreat.

That’s when one more piece of news came through. Admiral Nagala was dead. Commander Adama, the delightful, buttheaded man he’d had the pleasure of standing next to a few hours earlier, had taken command of the Fleet. Adar was used to hardass military leaders, though, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Rendezvous at Ragnar Anchorage. Good. He’d be there.

#

The Cylons had human appearance. After being stuck on Ragnar with one, Bill was convinced of that fact. The attacks, taking command of the Fleet, fighting with what was definitely a Cylon on the station, and now the President coming back; he’d gone through it all on some sort of autopilot, letting the military training and tactical mind take over and quash any thoughts, any worry he couldn’t afford. There was a war to be fought. But now, in the first, small break since the attacks started, while they waited for ammunition to be loaded, he could spare a thought for what had been lost.

So, he did. He thought about Tauron, his father's birthplace, about Picon and the Fleet Headquarters he’d visited several times, about Caprica, about the millions and millions of victims, about his ex-wife, probably dead, and Laura, who should have been on the _Galactica_ today. He did his best over time to forget about her, and thirty years is a long time, but today, she’d been ever so present in his mind. Now, she was probably dead too.

“The President asked for you on Colonial One,” Saul said as Bill was getting patched up after kicking Leoben’s ass. “He’s in one hell of a mood.”

Bill looked up at his XO. “Aren’t we all?”

With a sigh, Bill stood up, reaching up to touch over the bandage at his forehead. It would hold a little while.

He made his way over to the presidential ship, going over the attack plan he’d devised. This had to be why the President wanted to see him. Stepping on to Colonial One was an experience on its own. It was as secure as a warship, and, while nowhere as big as Galactica, was substantially bigger than any other civilian transport ship. There was even a rumour that Colonial One housed a pool and a pyramid arena, but no one had been able to confirm that. Soft carpets covered the floor, muffling footsteps and making the simple act of walking down the passageway already so different than the wide, metal corridors of Galactica.

Bill was directed past many rooms in the ship and into the President’s office. As he neared it, he heard Adar’s droning voice interspersed with a woman’s.

“The Captain of the Astral Queen wants you to know that he’s got nearly five hundred convicted criminals under heavy guard in his cargo hold,” she said. “They were being transported to a penal station when the attacks happened. He wants to know what to do with them.”

“I saw something about that. Zarek is among them?”

“I didn’t get that information, sir.”

“I don’t have time to take care of this. Tell the Captain to do what he has to do.”

Bill walked into the office, taking in the large desk, the chairs, the warm light and the Colonial flags. It looked almost too big to be just an office. Adar dismissed his assistant and looked up. He looked like he’d taken ten years in the space of a day. “Commander. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon. Have a seat.”

Bill nodded and crossed the room to sit on one of the chairs. Making the move to sit down made his back twinge in pain, a reminder of the fight, but he didn’t let anything show. “Mr President,” he greeted. “I’m glad to see you alive and well.”

“Thank you.”

Bill clasped his hands on his lap, glanced at the window where he’d seen many civilian ships. “I saw you brought civilians with you. I’m afraid I can’t take them to the fight.”

“We couldn’t leave them where they were. The Cylons would have destroyed them,” Adar said. He rummaged through the absolute mess of files and folders on his desk before giving up. “What is your attack plan?”

“Galactica will be armed soon. Then we go back, and find the enemy.”

“Are you the only Battlestar left? I haven’t received word from anyone. Have you?”

Bill nodded gravely. “It would appear so, but Galactica _will_ be ready to fight. There’s something else you should know. The Cylons look like us now.” 

The President frowned, but the corner of his lips twitched as if he was hesitating to laugh. Did he think this was a joke? “How?” he ended up asking.

“I don’t know. I encountered one on Ragnar Station. According to the doctor, everything in his body appears human. This means we have a problem.”

“We do, indeed,” Adar looked at him intensely, as if judging whether he was a Cylon or not. Right back at him. “Please allow for Dr Baltar to have access to the body.”

“He survived?” Bill asked flatly, unimpressed. The man had always seemed an oddball to him. “He needs to find a way to screen humans from Cylons.”

“Agreed. I will talk to him while you’re away. Make sure no one knows about this. This would cause further panic in the population that we cannot afford.”

Bill was about to say the same thing, so he readily agreed. Who knows what would happen if people learned of Cylons’ human appearance? Especially at a time when they needed to get ready for a war. They covered other topics, defence, medical conditions, Galactica’s repairs, and back to the attack plan. Thankfully, Adar stood in full support of fighting back, especially after being denied an answer to his surrender message. That bruised his ego a little bit. 

“The storm will provide cover for the civilians to hide while the Galactica gets back into the fight,” Bill explained.

“For how long? If you don’t come back, we won’t stand a chance.”

Adar seemed unsure, worried, and definitely like a man who wasn’t used to this. Bill wasn’t either, had never had to deal with a catastrophe of this scale, but having fought in the Cylon War had given him a better understanding, not to mention an already long career making tactical decisions. If that meant the President would be easy to deal with, then he’d take it.

“We don’t stand a chance if we give up the fight. The war is only beginning.”

_The war is lost._

Laura’s voice from his dream resonated in his mind and Bill almost jumped off his seat, but restrained himself at the last second. Nevermind that his dream had predicted with uncanny accuracy that there would be a war and the human population would be decimated, it meant nothing. And if she wanted babies, she should have stayed when he’d asked her to.

Realising he’d gripped the arm of his chair too tightly, he let it go and walked out of the office.

Later, in the CIC, she intruded in his thoughts again. _If we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here..._ Could they really have lost the war? The truth stared him in the face. Yes. What else to do? Run? Hide? Be chased like prey throughout the galaxy? He was a fighter, he couldn’t stand the thought.

But he’d also been trained to recognise a hopeless situation, one where it was better to retreat and regroup. The Cylons had got them from the start. Once command had fallen to him, it was already over. A lone Battlestar to defend the Colonies would accomplish nothing. _Survive as a species_. That was what it came to now, wasn’t it? The stakes weren’t just a man, a ship, a planet, but truly, the survival of the human race. For a moment too long, the Commander stared at his XO who waited for the order to jump back to Caprica, overtaken by the desperate light shone on their situation.

They would jump, but not to Caprica. Away. Far away.

They would run.

#

 _Earth will become our new home._ A bold statement, with the President in the room. A President who had to know that Bill had lied to the people, had to know Earth was no more than a legend. But he hadn’t said a word. Adar hadn’t even talked to him after his speech, merely rejoining Colonial One with his staff. Dealing with him hadn’t been as much of a pain as Bill had expected. The somewhat forceful man he’d argued with before the decommissioning ceremony had shrunk back after the attacks, seeming to agree with Bill’s plan to attack, and then the one to run. 

He’d provided Baltar, who he was apparently good friends with, to work on a way to tell humans from Cylons. The shifty scientist was now on _Galactica_ , which Bill was wary of. But this was where the Leoben body was, and experiments would be much easier made here than on Colonial One where he’d stayed until now. If they didn’t find a way to know who was human and who was Cylon, then they didn’t stand a chance. They would only be delaying their extinction.

Stepping in his quarters, Bill immediately sensed something wasn’t right. He’d been in enough dangerous situations to instantly recognise one. His gut was rarely wrong, and he slowly, carefully walked further in the silent cabin. Nothing seemed different, nothing seemed amiss. His books were there. His desk was untouched. His table was-

He froze, eyes widening at the sight of long legs dangling off the big wooden table. Trailing his eyes up but already knowing in his heart who those legs belonged to, he settled his gaze on her face, finding a smug smile and pale green eyes staring back into his.

Laura.

No, not _just_ Laura. 

Laura, looking exactly like the last time he’d seen her, fifteen years ago. She graciously hopped off the table and walked to him, the red fabric of her dress flowing around her.

“So you know the Cylons look human. Good job. But did you know there are twelve models?” she asked.


	2. Cylon-occupied Caprica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura struggles to survive on Caprica and makes an interesting encounter

After Richard left, Laura couldn't stop thinking about Stans and the strike, how she had done nothing wrong, and yet was going to have to fight for her job. But she hadn't survived more than ten years in the cutthroat world of politics without learning a thing or two and she wouldn’t be kicked out like that.

The plan she'd told the president needed finishing and the reason why she couldn't go on the  _ Galactica  _ had been done yesterday, and was being reviewed by her team now. It was a lie, but all for the better. She wondered whether Bill was still mad at her for leaving him. If not the first time, then the second. And if not for that, for turning his ship into a museum. 

She reached for the information pack on the decommissioning she’d received, containing information on the ship, including who she’d be meeting.  _ William Adama, Commander _ . The picture of him on the side caught her attention once more. He stared straight into the camera, standing with the same air of calm authority she’d always known him. Although they’d both aged since their doomed love story, what made him who he was stayed the same, the hard lines of his face protecting the loving heart she’d stomped on. It was good she’d stayed away.

When they'd met again by chance fifteen years ago, they'd shared a drink and talked like the adults that they’d become. She hadn’t been 22 anymore, naive and with a head full of dreams, but older, with dreams that had died along with the rest of her life. They'd reminisced, spent the entire weekend cooped up inside together, getting reacquainted with each other and sharing stories. Bill had told her about his divorce, finalised the week before, and she hadn't told him about the death of her family, the one he’d met several times when they were together back then. They'd agreed to give this thing between them a second chance, but she couldn't bear the thought of getting attached again and losing him if anything happened, so she'd fled. 

Laura took in a deep breath, shook her head and closed the file. In the past. That was in the past. No use bringing that back up. There was a doctor's appointment she'd been about to cancel back then because she was too busy -and frankly, scared- but seeing Bill again had reminded her of the good things in life and given her the strength not to cancel. So, if anything, she had him to thank for being alive today, and healthy again.

Since she was having trouble focusing and had no more meetings for the day, she pondered going to the museum and just walking around there. There was a temporary exhibition at the museum she hadn’t been able to get to yet, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to at least take her mind off thoughts of the past.

She drove out of the city to see it, enjoying being outside when the sun was still up, which had been a rare occurrence of late. 

The museum wasn’t too busy yet, with two hours until close, and the exhibition on Sagittaron history proved worth the trip. But soon, nervous chatter filled the room she was in, and seemingly the entire museum. People stared at their phones in horror, and when someone started praying next to Laura, she knew something was terribly wrong. She didn’t have time to ask - the screen usually used to display museum information showed the news, with a panicked anchor trying to describe the desperate situation.

_ “We don’t have any further information at this moment, but it seems like a coordinated attack. A message from President Adar was caught, referring to the Cylons as being the enemy force. The Gods save us all.” _

Laura’s mind snapped to attention. A Cylon attack. 

_ “It looks like Aerilon and Picon and-" _

Static replaced the journalist onscreen a few seconds before a flash blinded the museum visitors and the blast of the explosion over Caprica City destroyed everything in its wake. Laura’s last thought before the world turned black was about the boat that would take her to the fields of Elysium.

#

Things registered progressively to an overwhelmed and bruised mind. An acrid smell, sounds of metal, and pain.

Laura gasped for breath, eyes shooting open. She was lying among the debris, the body of a man on top of her squashing her lungs. His chest had been pierced by a steel rod fallen from the ceiling that, now that she tried to focus, she could feel poking her stomach. It took a few minutes for her brain to put the pieces together and realise she needed to push the body covering hers if she wanted to be able to move. He rolled off easily when she put all her strength into her arms behind the pushing motion, but it brought something else to her attention. Her left hand throbbed, wrist tender and one or more fingers very probably broken. The wound on her stomach was shallow, and, with a choked sob, she realised the dead man beside her had saved her life. She was alive. But for how long?

After a while, sitting up seemed possible, then standing. Standing brought its own load of issues and she quickly divested her shoes, her knees shaking with the effort to stand upright. Something was decidedly wrong with her ankle, but before she could think about it, the sounds of metal clashing filled the air again, closer this time. Attack from the Cylons, she remembered from the TV. Could they be down here, on Caprica? How long had she been out, exactly? She rushed to hide along the wall as metal steps made their way closer. Her hand covered her mouth to muffle the panted breaths and panicked sobs that threatened to give away her alive state. The machines would love to rectify that if given the chance. When they faded again, she gave in to her trembling legs and slid down the wall to sit down again, forehead coming down to rest on the folded arms over her bent knees.

There had to be something that could be done. She wasn’t going to die here, not after the miracle of -so far- surviving a nuclear holocaust. For the first time, Laura was glad she had nobody left anymore. They had died a long time ago, or would be dead now anyway. What about those on the  _ Galactica _ ? Bill, Richard. Probably destroyed in the attacks, too. She couldn’t imagine the Cylons would have spared anyone, not after the news on the TV that several colonies had been hit. They were clearly out for blood.

She couldn’t stay here anyway, exposed, vulnerable. Walking barefoot among the debris, especially unsteadily couldn’t last long, and she resigned to the fact that she needed shoes. Stealing sneakers off a corpse made her sick, and her stomach heaved, vomiting anything it could over a sign that used to point to the bathroom. How ironic. She wiped her mouth and put on the shoes, taking a few seconds to pat around her swollen ankle.

A plan had formed in her head. Get to Richard’s safehouse, the nuclear shelter built under his office meant to protect the president in case of such a disastrous event. She wasn’t supposed to know it existed, where it was, or even how to get inside, but they’d both enjoyed frakking in there once, the privacy the space provided unrivalled.

That was if she could reach it. With her car unusable after the blast, she had to reach the place on foot, limping and stumbling every few steps, and hope not to encounter more Cylons.

#

Reaching the shelter was no small feat, and she almost lost her life half a dozen times more. After she closed and locked the hatch of the bunker, it only took a minute for darkness to overtake her exhausted, dehydrated and aching body, knowing that she was finally somewhere she’d be allowed to rest, if only for a little while. If the Cylons had known about this place, she’d be dead by now.

When she regained consciousness hours later, she was finally able to seriously evaluate the place she was in. There was everything needed to survive in there; she’d fallen face first on the bed-like structure and now reached for the food and water to soothe her starched throat and upset stomach. Then came time to really assess her injuries, raiding the first aid kit and wrapping bandages around her hand, spraying antiseptic on the gash at her stomach, and an ice pack on her ankle, not to mention checking over the myriad of cuts and bruises. 

The communication station called to her, but for the first time, the wireless was silent. Not a talk show, not a news reporter, nothing. She listened for any messages, tried to send one, but nothing worked.

Several days she stayed there, recovering, trying to come up with a plan. She wouldn’t stay hidden forever. Supplies were limited, and she grew restless. There had to be something she could do. And the wound on her belly didn’t get better; in fact, it had started to swell and be more painful than before, a sure sign of infection, and there were no antibiotics in sight.

She could walk now, much more steadily than before, which would make venturing out again slightly safer. Wearing Richard’s clothes as she left the shelter was something she never thought she’d do, but she was grateful to be able to get out of her torn outfit. He kept a gun inside, too, which she grabbed, even though she couldn’t shoot to save her life, did  _ not  _ want to shoot at anyone. If it came to that, shooting to save her life, she was as good as dead.

As she left and walked back out for the first time in days, hugging the buildings as she made her way to the nearest clinic that would hopefully be full of meds, she reflected on how the once buoyant city was now eerily silent. There had to be other survivors. She couldn’t be the only one. If she could just find them, make a group, do something.

Voices reached Laura’s ear before she rounded a building and she stopped, flattening herself against the wall. Those were human voices, contrasting with the sound of metal steps she’d heard until now. Survivors she’d hoped to find?

“She’s found him now.”

“Do you really think this will work?” 

“If not, we end him. This Eight knows what she’s doing.”

“And why haven’t we blown Galactica out of the sky yet?”

Laura allowed herself to close her eyes a second and feel relief poke its head. Bill’s ship was still in the fight. That man was resourceful. She had been right, there were survivors. 

“The Ones said they wanted our parents to realise their mistake.” 

Laura chanced a glance around the corner to see who was talking and how those human voices could be talking so easily about murder. She had time to make out two identical blonde women talking with a man, the one who had pestered Laura about the decommissioning and its press coverage. “Oh Gods,” she whispered, watching them walk away.

She stayed there a minute longer, mind taken over with questions, before she pushed herself off the wall to start walking again… until she came face to face with the barrel of a gun. People came out of nowhere, surrounding her, and she was torn between surprise and relief. It was strange to feel relief at seeing other people, especially ones that were just a finger cramp away from ending her life, and especially after seeing what were undoubtedly Cylons who looked human, but the man standing before her looked familiar, if not from his face, then from the outfit of his Pyramid team, the yellow B on the red background signalling his affiliation to the Caprica Buccaneers.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “You have two seconds.” 

“I’m not a Cylon,” she replied. “Are you? Captain of the Buccaneers, right? I thought it was you.”

“T, she’s in the government. I saw her on TV,” a woman behind Anders said, and Laura looked at her and the other person next to her. Were they all Buccaneers? That was odd. But there was little chance the Cylons had created the entire Caprican Pyramid team and were using it to trick her. 

Anders looked Laura up and down and lowered his gun, but kept a finger on the trigger. “What are you doing here? How did you survive?”

“I was injured, and that clinic a block south looked wonderful. As for surviving, I almost didn’t.” She wasn’t going to talk about the shelter, not if those people were dangerous and she needed a place to hide again. No one could really be trusted now; not that she’d trusted a lot of people before anyway.

“Toasters are coming our way, let’s move!” and with that, they were off.

#

“We’ve just discovered this place yesterday. A place to hide and rest, and plan how to get back at the toasters. Some of us are hurt,” Anders gestured to the building in front of them.  _ Delphi Union High School _ , half in ruins, but still mostly standing. Laura remembered coming here on visit a few months ago. All those children had to be dead now, and she found her mind devastated by that thought.

“I’m Sam, by the way.” 

“Laura.”

They shook hands. From the way the others behaved around him, it looked like he’d taken the de facto leading position of the group, without being too sure about what he was really doing either.

“You said you were injured. Our team doctor was with us when the attacks happened. I’ll let him know about you..”

“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile. “How many people do you have here?” 

“You’re our sixty-third, but there has to be more out there.”

“I agree. We should go out looking for them,” she decided.

“You don’t look so hot right now,” he remarked, and she realised the picture she must make, in a blue shirt too large for her, tangled hair hastily tied, bandaged fingers, leaning her weight off one leg and cuts and scratches remaining on her face. 

Nevertheless, she sent him a withering look. “I’m perfectly capable, thank you for your concern. We should make several teams and go out on rescue missions, cover different parts of the region. You said you had a doctor here, that will come in handy. If we’re all that’s left, we have to look out for each other.”

“What if we rescue Cylons without knowing it?” Anders challenged, watching as a few people passed them by.

“It’s a possibility, but what if one of us already is a Cylon?” she asked back, and he frowned, perturbed by that fact. 

None of them could guarantee anything. But if one of them was a Cylon, then they were all screwed. Not that they weren’t screwed anyway. All of them would still die here; it was only a matter of time. But they could inflict some damage in the meantime. And they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the slowest burn I've ever written since they're not meeting again for a few chapters... lol oops


	3. Bastille Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill is not amused with his new companion, and the President fraks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this episode so much, thought I'd recreate some parts of it, help set up the wonderful president

Bill looked at the woman who was decidedly not Laura, despite the physical resemblance, his fists clenched. She kept avoiding the question, repeating the information she’d already given about the twelve cylon models as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. He wondered if it was a hallucination, at first, but no amount of blinking and nails digging into palms changed a thing. Not a dream either, she was here. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Don’t make me ask a third time.”

"I thought this appearance would make you more comfortable. You love her," she said, looking down at her body as if she was discovering it. 

"Not anymore."

"You can’t lie to me as you do yourself. I’ve seen you fall in love. But if not her, how about this?" She disappeared, and he didn’t have time to wonder before someone else appeared in her place. Someone that ripped the heart from his chest, crushed it, and threw it out the airlock. Zak, also like the last time he’d seen him, proud in his new uniform. That was it; he'd had enough. He threw his fist at the person's -currently his son's- face, but with no success. It just stopped his fist with one hand and laughed.

"Don't you dare use my son," he growled, pain searing through his chest where his heart should have been.

Zak became Laura again, and she smiled at him, but not kindly. "That's what I thought. You're more comfortable with her." She looked at Bill, red like a bomb about to explode, and clicked her tongue. "Come on, Bill. Don't be like that. I'm here to help you. I told you there are twelve cylon models." 

"Would help a hell of a lot more if I knew what the frak you were. A Cylon?" 

"It doesn't matter. I'm here to help you. Humanity is in danger."

Understatement. Humanity was more than in danger, rather on the brink of extinction. Was she being dense on purpose? 

Well, if she wasn’t going to say anything else… he called the marines stationed outside and she watched him do it without moving, as if she wasn’t scared, as if she didn’t care. 

“Take that to the brig,” he ordered.

The two marines exchanged a confused glance. “Who do you mean, sir?”

“They can’t see me,” Not-Laura said with an unnerving smirk, coming to stand right in front of the guards to prove it to him. “Don’t embarrass yourself. If word got out that the Commander had gone insane… ouch. You’d better listen to me instead.”

But he refused to listen.

When Cylons attacked every thirty-three minutes, by jump forty, she told him to be wary of the  _ Olympic Carrier _ . He ignored her. When they destroyed it and the Cylons stopped coming, she said I told you so. 

When they frantically searched for water, she told him in which sector to look, and he ignored her again. When Boomer found a planet with water, I told you so again.

Bill seriously considered asking Cottle to check him now, but what would he say? That he heard voices? That an invisible woman whispered things in his ear, things that ended up being true? The doc would think he’d had too much ambrosia, or worse, that he was a Cylon. But if he was a frakking machine, he’d know it. 

The woman was distracting, too. She kept walking around CIC, trying to quizz him on the crew’s names because it amused her, or sitting on the tactical table, dress riding up to expose her thighs. It was clear she’d pulled from his memories, from the last time he’d seen Laura, recreating it to perfection, down to the little details, the shade of her hair, the mark on her shoulder. This was the one thing that had brought him any relief - the thought that this wasn’t really Laura, but something else impersonating her.

And that something obviously knew him. Gods, he could only hope that thing didn’t have access to more of his memories than that, couldn’t see how he’d taken that dress off Laura and thrown it on the floor, and what he’d done with her afterwards. 

Speaking of the devil, she appeared as he was going over options to extract water from the planet they’d found. “You look pensive,” she said, sitting down next to him. He paid her no mind. “Don’t stay silent like that. I hate when you do this.”

“You don’t know me,” he reminded her.

“But I do. I’ve observed you. A lot.” She pouted in such a way that was so unlike Laura it put further distance between it and the woman he had loved. Good. “And when I finally decide to help you, this is how you thank me?”

“ _ What _ are you?” he asked, patience wearing thin, especially with the matters of the Fleet and the near daily crises he was already having to deal with. She was more of a burden than a help, and something told him she knew that.

“Humans tend to call ‘angels’ species that their limited brains can’t understand,” she eventually said. “So if it makes you feel better, think of me as an angel from God.” she paused. “or Gods? Depends what you believe in.”

“If you knew me, you’d know that the religious argument won’t work.”

“I know that. It was worth a try. Why won’t you believe that I want to help you?”

“If you’re here to help me, then help me and get the hell out. I have no use for half-truths. If you claim to know how to get to Earth, spill it.” 

She shook her head as if he was a stubborn child having a tantrum. “It’s a journey, my dear. You can’t jump right to the end.”

He didn’t reply, only stared at his file and waited. At last, she spoke again, not very patient in nature. “I thought you and I could have some fun while we travel. I know how you feel about this body.” She grinned, dropping onto his lap and he lifted unimpressed eyes to her provocative face, easily pushing her off, not caring that she’d fall on the floor. She may have only been visible to him, but her weight was real. “That was rude. Ok. You can call me Iris if you really want.”

“But is that your name?”

She shrugged. “You’ll change your mind when she comes back.”

# 

Lee arrived with Bill on Colonial One and they both walked towards the President’s office. Adar always summoned everyone there, hadn’t gone on any other ship since the decommissioning, which he claimed was for safety. Bill didn’t tell him that for all of their safety, the commander of the only remaining Battlestar shouldn’t spend this much time away from the ship, but he was dying to.

Adar looked up when they entered and closed the folder in front of him. “Commander, Captain, how are you?” 

He always asked that, every single time. As if it mattered. And what was anyone supposed to answer? A Commander that should have been retired was having to lead the rest of humanity away from vengeful machines, having lied about a legend, while fighting with his son because neither of them got over their history, and one slip, one bad decision could mean the end for all of them. The President didn’t want to hear that. The President didn’t want to hear much about the struggles of the Fleet.

“Mr President,” they both greeted in response.

“I studied the proposition to get water from the ice on that planet. It looks good. What will you need?”

“Looks like it’ll be a thousand men, sir,” Lee replied. “And it won’t be a walk in the park. The conditions down there look hard. Do you think we can pull people from the prison ship?”

Adar looked back at the file, thoughtful. Since he’d told that ship’s captain to do what he needed to, he hadn’t been in contact and didn’t know how many of those prisoners were really left. “I’m not sure how many people are on that ship.”

Lee tilted his head. “Don’t you keep a headcount?”

“No, that sounds terribly depressing.” 

“Once we do, we could take a proposition to them. We could offer them incentives. Points towards earning freedom.”

Bill had been mostly silent, observing the exchange between the Captain and the President, but now found he had to intervene. “We will not release hardened criminals into the Fleet.”

Adar seemed to be of the same mind, because he nodded. “They’ve been sentenced to hard labour, we don’t need their opinion, do we?” 

Bill’s new annoying companion decided to appear at that moment and sit on the President's desk, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Slave labour? Laura would disapprove. This won’t go well.” 

_ Nobody asked you _ , he tried to think, wondering if she truly could hear his thoughts, see his memories like she claimed to. She didn’t reply. Maybe she wasn’t technically in his head after all. 

They sent a team to the  _ Astral Queen _ to figure out which of the inmates would know how to use the appropriate tools, but it didn’t quite go the way they expected it to. Before long, the voice of Tom Zarek, freedom fighter or terrorist, depending on the way you look at it, could be heard through the comms of every ship in the fleet. 

_ “My name is Tom Zarek, and I have taken control of the  _ Astral Queen _. The crew are my prisoners. They will not be harmed. I was put away for twenty years for fighting for Sagittaron, for my people. For too long, some of us have been marginalised, exploited by the rest of the Colonies. And if you think this is going to be any different now, for us, the survivors of the holocaust, you are sorely mistaken.” _

Sitting at his desk, President Adar grabbed his mug and threw it at the floor where it shattered. Of course, Zarek had to cause trouble when they already were on the verge of extinction. They should’ve started with him, got rid of the problem. 

_ “Especially now, the President will have no qualm eliminating those who present an obstacle to his rule. He did not hesitate before having several of my shipmates assassinated. Resources are limited, and make no mistake, those of us not born on Caprica will get no sympathy from the President. None of us are slaves, nor should we be. Today, I ask you, is this the democracy we want? Don’t we all deserve to be free?” _

It only took an hour for protests and the riots already happening over the water crisis to intensify and reach Colonial One and the man angrily pacing his office floor so hard he was going to burn holes into the carpet. 

“Get me Adama,” he ordered and picked up his phone, soon conveying the gruff voice of the military leader. “Commander. When are you storming the ship?”

“We’re almost ready. Teams are headed out to the raptors,” Adama reported. 

“I know your son is over there. Good luck.”

“Thank you.” 

Adar sighed and looked out the window at the  _ Galactica _ . “I need you to send men to the rioting ships, those protesting in Zarek’s favour. They can’t be allowed to continue.”

“I’d rather not. The military isn’t the police, Mr President.”

“I don’t care. These riots need to be quashed before they can expand,” he argued, then realised he didn’t have to waste his time. He had his own security team. “Alright, I’ll send my own forces.”

He hung up and reached for something to throw again, but everything breakable had been taken away from him. The President’s assistants had taken it upon themselves to protect the last mugs, glasses and fragile items of humanity. He’d have praised that decision if he weren’t so damn furious. 

After dispatching groups of guards to calm the rowdy civilians, he picked up his phone again, connecting to the  _ Astral Queen _ . 

“Mr President,” Zarek’s voice betrayed his surprise… as well as his determination. “How long until you and Adama storm the ship and slaughter us all.”

“Not long.” 

“I see. I thought you’d at least pretend to be innocent. But finally, we speak freely. It only too you ten years.”

“I’m not innocent, but you killed some innocent people today in your quest for power.”

Zarek sighed. “It’s always better when the oppressed don’t fight back, isn’t it?”

“You’re putting the lives of thousands of people at risk. People who will die of dehydration if we don’t get this water.”

“No. No, no.  _ You  _ put the lives of those people in danger, when you decided to care about a select few. It’s like that… how did you call it? that unfortunate incident when you sent troops to Aerilon. You wouldn’t have done that to Caprica, would you?”

“This was an entirely unrelated situation.”

“The answer is no. No, you wouldn’t have,” Zarek said, stating what they both knew. Adar was about to hang up, having heard enough, when the next words coming from the hostage taker made him straighten up. “We  _ will  _ be free. And I will see you at the next elections.”

Instead of replying, Adar did hang up, this time. They would  _ not  _ have an election in six months. The Fleet was too unstable, couldn’t afford to be torn apart by fruitless debates and pointless elections. If all it took for people to riot was a message from a terrorist and a temporary lack of water, then something as big as a change in leadership was out of the question. He would stay President as long as he needed to, as long as it took them to reach Earth. 

The worst thing was that now, Tom Zarek couldn’t be killed, lest they make him a martyr, dying at the hands of the dictator president.

#

“You told them they could earn their freedom? Who the hell gave you that right?” Adar demanded some time later, when Adama father and son stood before him again. “I didn’t.”

Lee didn’t get flustered and simply nodded. “They’re not slaves, Mr President. It's done.” 

“We’re not having an election in six months.”

“With respect, this is not your call to make,” Lee said, unblinking as he looked at the President.

Bill was no less busy cursing Tom Zarek for managing to sway his son. Lee had a righteous side, one that made things such as arranging oneself with the law when the situation called for it and hoping for the best impractical. And now he may have doomed them all by giving criminals not only freedom, but control of a ship that, in itself, had the potential of destroying  _ Galactica,  _ on top of taking the liberty to apologise on behalf of the President. 

Working with Adar was far from the list of Bill’s favourite things, with the President unreachable half the time, then deeply caring about a seemingly random issue and making it happen his way, but it was by far preferable to Tom Zarek. The Gods only knew what would happen if that man ran for the presidency. If the elections did happen, surely, there would be ways of keeping him off the race. 

“They’ve agreed to arrange for the water detail on the moon,” Lee continued, but Bill’s focus was pulled out of the conversation and to the apparition next to his son.

It wasn’t Laura, he knew that, yet every time he saw her, his heart had a second of confusion and hope that overwhelmed everything else. Hopefully, that would disappear. He’d thought his heart would’ve given up on Laura after all those years -his brain certainly had- but was irritated to find it wasn’t the case.

"You're concerned about the elections, aren't you?” she asked. “Adar versus Zarek? An interesting match." Bill didn’t respond, mainly because he didn’t want to encourage her, but also not to appear to have a screw loose. “Don’t worry, it won’t come to that.”


	4. The resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura settles in with the resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always found the Fours creepy...  
> kept both parts of the plot separate so far (although the Caprica plot is mainly me indulging my love for Laura's badassery), but they'll get mixed in soon, otherwise chapters get kind of small like this one. Anyway. Ramble over.

Laura pulled down her shirt over her stomach again and the new and improved bandage, finally feeling better at being less exposed. It wasn’t that the team doctor of the Caprica Buccaneers creeped her out, but there was something about him she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He constantly seemed to be studying her, thinking and evaluating; like he had an ace up his sleeve, like he knew something the rest of them didn’t. 

"How old are you, Laura?"

Simon, he’d said he was called, took her left hand next and tested her fingers to see where the injury lay. 

"Is it relevant to either my stomach or my hand?" Laura asked back, not about to share private information. She winced when his prodding reached the ring finger. They didn’t have anything like casts here, alone in the deserted planet, so they were having to settle for something rigid to hold her fingers together and prevent them from bending, and wrapping some bandage around that.

“No it isn’t,” Simon smiled in what was probably meant to be a reassuring way. “I simply wondered. Do you have children?”

“Do you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re fixed now. Incredible luck you had in surviving.”

Even after he was done, her hand throbbed with how much she had moved it, but he was right, she had been lucky. If she’d stayed in her office like every other day before that, she would’ve been blasted out. 

“It is incredible,” she agreed. “As much as an entire professional Pyramid team making it this far.”

They heard Anders’s voice that seemed to be addressing a group, just outside, so they both made their way to the team captain. He stood before a crowd of about twenty, maybe thirty people, exposing a plan he’d carefully thought through. He was no war tactician, though, and it showed, but the enthusiasm with which he spoke of blowing up Cylons was encouraging. 

“Does anybody remember that old movie ‘the Tauron line’ and what they did?” he asked. Someone handed him what was a metal thigh, a Cylon part, and a few of the people closest to him flinched. “We’ve seen they have these containers where they repair other toasters. We go in, trick them into picking this piece up, and boom, it blows up the whole thing.” 

“But that’s so dangerous,” a young man near the front said.

“Yeah, it is dangerous. Everything is, now,” Anders agreed. “But there’s a strong chance we’re all going to die here. So I say it comes down to how we’re gonna die. And I want to die frying some toasters.”

There were murmurs of agreement, and Laura pondered how much of an empowering leader he appeared to be. It would have been so easy for them, the group of untrained survivors to let go, to surrender to the crushing odds, to the sure hand of death, or simply just to hide and wait, but they didn’t. They wanted to fight, to tip the scales just a tiny bit back in their favour, despite the odds, despite the little difference it would make on the overall situation, despite the high probability of death every single second they spent on their nuked home planet. She had to be admirative of that, and thankful to the man who kept them going.

Laura wasn’t allowed on that particular mission, something which she resented. But according to Anders, being injured and with self-assessed poor aim, it was better for her to sit this one out. One advantage the team had, he’d told her, was their ability to hit target almost every time they threw something, the results of hours of training and games throwing pyramid balls.

While they were gone, some of the younger residents took to actually playing a game on the pyramid court of the high school that served as their refuge. With nothing else to do and no desire to entertain thoughts about loss and survival, Laura sat on the edge of the court. Even then, she couldn’t stop wondering, eventually giving up on trying to stay distracted and going through the topics she wanted to broach with the group - food, water, medicine against radiation and otherwise, security.

The game started and ended and she still sat there, eyes on her hand and thoughts with the other survivors. “Laura?” a familiar voice called, prompting her to come back to the here, now, and what the frak was her former colleague doing here.

“Wally, oh my gods.” She sprung to her feet, a little too fast but it didn’t matter, and almost fell into her friend’s arms. 

On the other side of the court, she saw Simon speaking to a young blonde woman, leaning in, smiling and touching her arm. They seemed close, but for some reason Laura found herself suspicious. But she looked away, distracted by the only familiar figure she’d seen since that day.

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” he said when they both sat down again.

“What are you doing here? You were supposed to be part of the trip to Galactica with the President.” 

“Since you weren’t coming, there wasn’t a need for this much staff. So I stayed.” Wallace Gray, trusted advisor to the President, and her friend for several years, had almost died because she’d pulled out of the trip. She didn’t want to ask about his wife, about his son. She wouldn’t have been able to save them, even if she’d gone to space like she was supposed to, but the pain of it still pierced through her heart. “What are we doing here?”

“Surviving,” she answered without too much conviction. Could they, really? She still didn’t have an answer to that. “Didn’t you say you always dreamed of meeting the C-Bucs?”

Wally gave a mirthless chuckle. “Never thought that’s how it’d happen.” 

“We’ll get through this. I’m thinking of organising raids to look for people, to the west, at first.”

“If you want to join any of them, you’ll have to learn how to shoot. Last I checked, weapons weren’t your strong suit.”

Laura wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something rotten, but he was right. She knew that. “Do you know how?” she asked and he shook his head. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Laura. How you go on, think about the future.”

Truthfully, she had no idea how she was going on either. It was probably a wild mix of survival instinct and her legendary stubbornness that refused for her to consider herself beaten. “Wally, I’m so sorry. I think it’s that I’d rather think about what can be done about the situation, otherwise I’ll go crazy. And call it misplaced ego, but I don’t want to let the Cylons bring me down.”

Wally smiled sadly, and in an attempt to light up the mood, threw in a joke, “Well, Madam President, they don’t stand a chance against you.”

She took it seriously, though, thought about Richard, what he’d do if he was there, what he was doing now if he was still alive. “I’m hardly the President. Not to mention there’s only about seventy of us.”

“Out of us all, you’re the only government figure.”

“It doesn’t matter. If our group gets big enough to be a real threat for the Cylons, I promise you I’ll consider it,” she eventually joked back, because that would never happen. 

The mood turned somber again when Anders and the group on mission came back. The reason why was abundantly clear. Ten had left, eight were back. They scattered, and no one talked about it.

Laura sighed, watching the resistance descend into morosity. They’d played and they’d lost, and it wouldn’t be the last time. She wondered, not for the first time, whether they were doomed to fail, what their group could truly do against an army of Cylons. But it was a step in the right direction; she’d wanted to find other survivors, and there they were. The next step was to get organised, and keep at it. 

Nightfall came quickly, and everyone silently munched on re-hydrated food, military rations they’d found while looking for weapons and ammunition. Anders sat away from the rest of the group, next to a small fire lit up outside. He’d barely eaten anything, and Laura approached him slowly, treading carefully, but making enough noise that he wouldn’t be startled when she spoke. Whether he liked it or not, people had started looking up to him as a leader, and if he lost hope… if he lost hope, then they’d better all kill themselves now.

“Not a fan of dinner?” she asked, sitting down next to him on an empty crate.

Anders sighed heavily, slowly moving his eyes away from the food and to Laura’s face. “What are we doing here?” 

“Surviving,” Laura answered for the second time that day, because there was no other answer.

He shook his head. "I lost two people today. Because I wanted to run a plot from a stupid movie."

" _ You _ didn't lose anyone," she argued. “The Cylons annihilated the human race. We’re all that’s left. You’ve done an incredible job of gathering people and fighting back. You’re dealing with people at the end of the world, scared and untrained. That’s an achievement in itself. You’re even having people like me who would hurt themselves a lot more than they’d do others if they tried to shoot a gun. You’ve done well, Sam.”

That pulled a smile out of him, and she felt accomplished. "But I’m not a leader. You know,” he paused, frowned down at his hands. “I thought of just leaving. Walking away." 

Laura nodded, then surprising herself, she said, "Me too. I think that’s normal. None of us have asked to be here, we’ve just been given this frakked up situation to deal with. I wasn't supposed to be on Caprica when it happened, but now here I am.”

“Then why are you?”

“It’s a long story. I ended up not accompanying the President on his visit.” Silly how much the teachers’ strike and their argument mattered now.

“Do you think he’s still alive?”

“I have no idea.” The conversation she’d overheard came back to Laura’s mind, and she wondered, for what seemed like the hundredth time what Richard had become, if Bill and his ship had survived past the beginnings. If they were still alive, by some miracle, she hoped they’d fled the cursed Colonies, never to come back. She hoped… for Bill to find a refuge and get the rest that he deserved. Blinking back tears, she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how much it matters to us right now. It would be foolish to come back and fight. We lost the war, and we couldn’t properly inhabit the planets again even if we chased the Cylons away.”

"Yeah, I know,” Anders shrugged, sagging a little less now, his face having regained some colour. “We fight them until we can't, then. That's all there is, right?"

“That’s all there is,” Laura nodded, the weight of the words settling on her shoulders. “Now don’t make me force you to eat. I taught kindergarten, I know how to handle petulant children.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam laughed and made quick work of his dinner as they talked strategy. As Laura was standing up again, he said something that stayed with her. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure this out.”

The two of them. She did say she would help in any way she could, so that’s what she’d do. She did start taking the lead on some aspects of life there, such as food and rescue operations.

Days seemed to follow one another without much distinction. The group grew a little bit, but more often than not, one tragedy or another would bring the headcount lower again, and everyone’s spirits so low they were far underground. What worried Laura as well were disappearances. Women, in particular. The young blonde woman she’d noticed several times simply vanished, one day, reportedly died from consequences of an injury. Another one, some time later, same treatment. Of course, considering their dire situation and living conditions, tragedies like that would happen, it was a given… but something was going on. 

Since she could only rely on herself for protection, she fought against her aversion and tried to learn how to shoot -thank the Gods she was right-handed so she’d be able to join expeditions. But none of the other survivors knew enough about it to be able to properly teach, so some of them just pitched in with bits of advice and things they’d picked up. Even with training, she still had terrible aim. One shot that was supposed to hit a rather large makeshift target ended up in the trunk of a tree, far to the left. Someone joked that, since she ended up shooting to the left every time, she should try aiming off for the right side to compensate. She tried it, just in case, and it actually worked. A poor solution, but there were no good options, anyway.

The problem of resources quickly growing thin presented a constant struggle, too, especially anti-radiation shots, the one thing they couldn’t live without. Acid rain kept falling from the sky, a dangerous reminder of the environment they lived in. Simon made a list of other priority items to retrieve, which heavily pushed them towards hospitals, even though those tended to be watched by Cylons. They had a plan; a dangerous one, but a plan nonetheless. The hospital in Pilgrim Bay would have plenty of what they needed. They would raid it, and this time, she was in.


	5. 100% flesh and bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill has much to think about

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know me... I made a playlist haha (and don't judge my choice of French songs in there, I have a lot of feelings ok) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/48fHCfP0RTIiH6Om3ditQ6?si=bb3c73f2414c48c7

_ They had taken to Cloud Nine for the occasion, for the pleasure of walking barefoot on grass, taking a midnight bath, dancing under the stars. The ceremony had been small and simple, a long overdue binding of souls that already knew they would never be apart again.  _

_ "Congratulations, Madam President."  _

_ "Thank you, Admiral. Right back at you."  _

_ He kissed her soft and quick, then deep and slow as they swayed to the music, matching gold bands on their fingers glinting in the gentle light.  _

_ "Don't start anything you can't finish," she warned when his lips attached themselves to her neck.  _

_ "Who says I can't finish it? You know that I always do." _

_ Her giggles so close to his ear filled his brain with the sweet warmth of love. "Our darling children might not enjoy that."  _

_ "They can turn around." _

_ "Bill!" _

Another dream about Laura.

Great.

Bill was starting to be really tired of those. Was it the future? They didn't have children… as far as he was aware anyway; but Laura would've told him. Then she wasn't the President, and he'd never made Admiral, so this only confirmed this as his brain indulging in a fantasy - the fantasy of Laura here with him, instead of dead down on Caprica. This had to stop. He was the Commander of a Battlestar, the highest ranking military officer of the rest of humanity, not the protagonist of a romance movie, one of those he remembered Carolanne watching when she was pregnant. Gods, that was ages ago. 

“Good morning.”

Bill almost hit his head against the bulkhead in surprise at the sound of Laura’s voice. He still hadn’t got used to it even though it had been a while now since the woman -hallucination, angel, whatever- had started haunting his days. "Are you doing this? Get the frak out of my head."

Laura - no, what did she say she was called again? Isis? No, that didn’t seem right. Iris, that was it. Iris stood in the middle of his cabin, a glass in her hands, calmly surveying him. "I just got here. I have better things to do than watch you sleep. What do you want to blame me for, this time?" 

"Those dreams of the future." Not the future. It was too strange to be true. "or of... something else. You’re putting things in my head, and this stops now." 

She frowned, for the first time looking perplexed, out of control. Whether it was an act or not, he’d got her attention. "What do you dream about?"

"Silly fantasies,” he shook his head, got up and walked to the head. He still had some dignity, wasn’t about to reveal how he’d dreamed of his wedding like a lovestruck twelve-year-old kid. Although if this was her doing, she already knew the contents of those dreams.

She followed, staying in the doorway. “Tell me. I won’t make fun of you... this time.” 

He sighed, bracing for the ridiculousness of it. “My wedding to Laura on Cloud Nine. She mentioned our children." 

"Ah yes,” the frown eased, and her smile returned, as secret as ever. “Lee and Zak."

Bill had stopped looking at her, but that new piece of information made him turn around and stare in shock. "What?" His voice demanded explanations that she denied him yet again.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

She couldn't be serious saying something like that and then backing away. But then what did he expect? That was all she'd done so far. “Nothing that matters to me matters to you. What are you doing here again?”

“That’s unfair. The search for Earth matters to both of us. Laura and her…” She glanced up at him, her eyes shining with mischief, and they were back right where they started, with her taunting him, not taking anything seriously. “leadership… what did you think I was going to say hm?" She laughed. "Lee, Galactica, Hera, the Fleet, sticking it to the Cylons...”

She kept talking, but he didn’t listen, instead getting ready for the day. She didn’t follow when he left his quarters, still trying to expand on her list and prove a point. He’d never quite met anyone so self-absorbed. Maybe Gaius Baltar.

#

“Mr President, we are the proud owners of the first Cylon detector,” Bill announced, holding the phone to his ear as he looked at Baltar’s report in his hands. “But in order to test everyone, the people need to know Cylons look human.” He tried yet again, but so far, the President had refused even the possibility of letting the fleet know about it. 

“Commander, I already made myself clear. We are not telling the people,” Adar replied, exasperation seeping into his voice. “There’s already enough chaos as it is.”

“They’ll find out eventually.”

“Is that a threat?”

Bill frowned, running a hand over his face. On top of mildly incompetent, now the President was becoming paranoid, too? “Of course not. But we need to alert the public so we can catch the Cylons hiding in the fleet.”

“How is your officer doing with our prisoner?” Adar asked instead, which actually wasn’t such a wild change of subject.

“He’s not cooperative, but she’s confident she’ll get to him.” On a fluke, they’d caught another copy of the Leoben Cylon in the Fleet, and Starbuck was tasked with showing him human hospitality. They’d get rid of it soon enough, but surely the machine had answers to their burning questions. How many Cylons were there in the fleet? What was their plan? They’d only met three models so far, out of twelve. Who were the other ones? Answers that, so far, the Cylon hadn’t shared. That was all on top of trying to prevent him from blowing up the Fleet. 

“See that she does. How long do we still have?”

“Two hours.”

“He’s bluffing.”

“I think so, but we can’t gamble with civilian lives. She’ll work him until the last second… In the meantime, Dr Baltar is ready to begin testing,” Bill got back to the subject he’d called about. He would see Starbuck about the Cylon once he was done with the President. “But there are serious limitations. He can only do one at a time, and verification takes hours.”

“Fine, who’s going to go first?”

“I thought you would.”

“Why not you?” Adar asked.

“I’m not a Cylon, Mr President.”

“Neither am I, Commander.” 

Fair point. Their word meant nothing, considering how deceptive they’d found Cylons to be.

“When we tell people Cylons have human appearance, it will soften the blow to know their leader is not a machine,” Bill tried again. 

“I’ll see Gaius about it later today.” But an unsettling truth settled in Bill’s thoughts - would Baltar even tell them if his good friend turned out to be a Cylon? “You’ll go next, won’t you? Soothe my worries.”

_ His worries _ . What a frakker. “I will. Excuse me, Mr President, I’m needed elsewhere.” 

“Of course.”

It wasn’t that urgent, but he couldn’t quite deal with the President any longer. Everything in small, manageable doses. The look Tigh gave him showed that he’d heard and was mildly amused at the tactic. With the return of his wife, Saul was in a good mood and tended to find a lot of things entertaining. Not that the crew could ever know that.

“Sweep of the fleet is complete, sir,” he reported instead of commenting on Bill’s escape technique. “No radiological device detected.”

“Good.” Bill nodded, narrowed his eyes as he thought. “Do it again, start with Galactica. And spread out the fleet. If we don’t get answers, this might be the only way to limit the damages.”

#

Iris came onto the raptor as he was about to take off for the  _ Gemenon Traveler _ , sitting across from him. She’d stopped trying to come close to him after he’d threatened to shoot her in the face, which he was surprised had actually worked. The more he found out about her, the more he thought she was a being who didn't live inside his head like he'd first thought, and who could die, or felt at least threatened enough by a bullet between the eyes. She wanted something from him - he just had to find out what. 

“He’s an interesting man.”

“Machine,” he corrected without looking.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, machine. I’m surprised you’re going to talk to him.” 

_ I wonder if it  _ can  _ still talk _ . Kara had been at him for hours, no doubt unrestricted in her interrogation techniques. Yet, they were still out cold. He’d chosen her because she was impossible to coerce, the hardest to manipulate, but the way she’d spoken during their last phone call, saying Leoben believed to be seeing the future, to have a soul, to be God, had him a little worried. That machine was provocative, a liar, but a convincing one that laced his lies with a degree of truth which instantly made things more insidious, believable, dangerous.

He found Kara sitting on a chair, the bloody Cylon copy lying at her feet. Voices carried just enough that Bill could hear them while staying out, so he stood there, watching. This was Starbuck’s mission, and her back was to the door, so unless she moved, she wouldn’t notice him and he could remain there, alone and looking for an opening .

Except that he wasn’t alone.

Iris’s voice came out thoughtful as she watched the exchange between Kara and Leoben, her hand against the window. “The vision he has of life…”

“He’s full of half-baked philosophy,” Bill argued, his voice hard as he remembered encountering him at Ragnar Station.

“He’s always the one that fascinates me.”

“Why don’t you go haunt him?” he asked, fully serious. That would give him a break.

“If I had time to waste, I would.” 

On the floor in the makeshift cell, Leoben lifted his head to look at Kara again, finishing a speech. He looked dreadful, blood dripping from several gashes on his head, bruises forming on his jaw. “Life is a testament to pain, injuries, accidents. Some inflicted upon others, some inflicted upon yourself.”

“I told you before,” Kara replied as the man behind Leoben hauled him back up to his chair. It was a strange dance of hitting him so hard he fell off his seat, and then putting him back, right where they started. And doing it again. “Machines shouldn’t feel pain. You’re a machine. You have software. Software that can be turned off. Human beings can’t turn off their pain.”

Leoben looked up above Kara’s head, noticed Bill watching behind the window, and a smile crept up his face. “You know who’s in the best place to know about that?” he asked, letting the moment hang. “She’s our prisoner,” he coughed, more blood spurting from his mouth. ‘Hera’ he mouthed, wrapping his lips around the name as his eyes held Bill’s.

_ Don’t react. He’s playing with your mind, hoping to play on some romantic attachment you might have. He has nothing; a desperate plea from a broken machine.  _ Here he was, concerned by Starbuck’s state after the interrogation, but it was his head the Cylon had almost turned.

“All right,” Kara said dispassionately, signalling to her co-interrogator that the Cylon still hadn’t learned. The man raised his fist, and it connected with Leoben’s skull, leaving him stumbling off the chair again.

He didn’t seem to care, only looked towards the window once more. “The stream will flow again, it will come back around and pass you by again,” he winced, fresh blood, slick and red pouring out of a reopened wound. “Angels of time, beings of light.”

Bill had the guard at the door open it, and he stepped in the cell. Kara turned around, standing up, her knee injury making it a slightly unsteady maneuver. She came to him so they could converse quietly. “Time’s up, Starbuck.” 

“Frakker’s still not saying anything useful, sir,” she said, hiding her uneasiness behind a scowl.

“Then we don’t need him anymore.”

“Saved by Zeus. I appreciate the irony,” Leoben commented with a broken chuckle. “Lieutenant Starbuck, I have something to say to the Commander. I promise this doesn’t concern the love of his life, this time.”

“Give me your sidearm,” Bill ordered the marine by the door who quickly obeyed. He turned back to Leoben, taking the safety off, finger on the trigger. 

“All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again.”

Bill’s fist tightened around the grip of the gun, but his hand stayed still, aiming for the Cylon’s head. He was right, that Cylon model was half-insane, sputtering nonsense in the middle of quoting the scriptures. “Is that your big message? I’m not impressed.”

“That’s not all. Adar is a Cylon. But maybe you already knew th-” he dropped to the floor again, for good, this time, a bullet in the centre of his forehead. 

Bill gave the marine his weapon back, and noticed Kara’s widened eyes. “He wasn’t going to talk,” he explained. “Should’ve killed him hours ago.”

“But the bomb,” she protested.

“It’s past 1830. Anything that could have blown up would have by now. He was bluffing, and in the meantime, he’s caused our entire fleet to spread out.”

#

The leaders of humanity - well, the leaders of humanity and Ellen Tigh - stood in Baltar’s lab, waiting for the so-called genius to speak, the silence heavy with expectation.

“Doctor? You said you had the results?” Bill asked, seemingly taking Baltar out of his transe. He’d mulled around the fact that Adar might be a Cylon for two days now, but this had to be one of Leoben’s tricks. A move to buy some time and spit out more aberrations.

He should have ordered the Cylon put down as soon as they found him trying to sneak into a restricted area. Starbuck said he’d told her things about the future, about having a soul, about river streams and being God. But in the middle of the nonsense, something had touched her, and that was the dangerous thing with this model. The Commander himself had been reflecting on the machine’s words, and he’d only spent a few minutes there. The emotional blackmail he could deal with, he knew all about how to break a man using what they most cared about, and Laura was dead anyway, so that didn’t work. There was no doubt in his mind about the fate of everyone on Caprica. What did resonate, though, was the possibility of the President being a Cylon.

It would explain why he was so reluctant to tell the fleet about the Cylon and Human resemblance. He was secretive, unresponsive, indifferent to some of the fleet’s issues. But Leoben would never out one of his own, especially at such a position of power within the human population.

Bill wondered what he’d do if either, or both his XO’s newly recovered wife and the President of the Colonies were declared to be Cylons. But the answer was simple: there was still room in the brig. It didn’t matter who they were, or pretended to be, machines would never be allowed to sabotage the fleet.

“Human. Both of you,” Gaius announced proudly, looking between Ellen Tigh and Richard Adar, his first test subjects. “Hundred percent flesh and bone, congratulations.”

“Good.” Adar gave a curt nod and left the room. That he’d been there to hear the results had surprised everyone, but true to himself, he hadn’t stayed long.

Bill talked to Saul and Ellen while Baltar suddenly got his hands full with the sultry blonde that only ever appeared to him. 

“Both human?” she hummed, settling herself to straddle his lap with her fingers threading through his hair. She leaned in to whisper in his ear, breath warm and teasing. “You’re lying, Gaius. That’s naughty, I like it.”

He smiled in response, one side of his lips turning up into a superior grin. “They don’t have to know that.” 


	6. Last Gleaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonials find the birthplace of humanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to have another chapter before the previous one and this one, but I swapped them because I can't seem to follow an outline, so we get Kobol slightly earlier... and you know what's gonna happen
> 
> Sadly, this time, no President has been thrown in the brig in the making of this chapter...

“ _Six weeks after the attacks and for the first time, President Adar will walk into Colonial One’s press room any minute now and answer everyone’s burning questions._ _While not necessarily a popular president before, things have only gone worse now as we run for our lives. Crime, critical medical conditions, distribution of necessary supplies and the daily lives of people in the fleet seem to fly over his head while we have come to personally know his security dispatch. Needless to say-”_

The President in question listened to the wireless as he adjusted his tie. “Someone turn that frakking thing off,” he snapped, one second away from taking his anger out on the inanimate object, the source of that criticising voice. It almost immediately stopped, and he sighed.  


This was exactly why he’d avoided the press like Scorpian snakes on a hot day. Journalists always had something to whine about. Did they really have to do the press conference dance while on the run for their lives? Didn’t they already have enough to do? He used to enjoy those, before; everyone gathered to listen to him talk, giving practiced answers to inquiries journalists picked from a list of approved questions, smiling for the cameras, then leaving and finding nice headlines in the next day’s papers.

But there was nothing normal about this, nothing usual. Just like everything that had happened since the attacks, this was uncharted territory, and he wasn’t prepared for that. Not for any of it. His advisors seemed to think he’d have a full on rebellion on his hands if he didn’t answer at least some questions now, which was the only reason why he’d agreed to it.  


No matter his reservations, he walked through to the press room and came to stand behind the podium. Standing in front of the flags of the Colonies always breathed a sense of power into him, and today was no different. The crowd of journalists gathered in the room was only a quarter of what he was used to, but some looked ready to eat him alive, which more than made up for their number.

“Good morning and welcome. It has been six weeks since the destruction of our home planets, and amidst our struggle for survival, I realise you may have questions. Now is your chance.” There was nothing he particularly needed to say, so going straight to questions was the best way to rush through the ordeal.

It seemed that every single person in the room raised their hand, making him want to groan out loud in frustration. One at a time. He pointed to the first person in front of him.

“Mr President, do you intend to reinstate the Quorum of Twelve?”

First question and already questioning his authority as President. “No, I don't. Next-”

“Follow up,” the journalist, a tall blonde woman who looked slightly familiar, interrupted. “Why not?”

“What we need at the moment is leadership, not to sit in meetings, debate, and live through more squabbles between Tauron and Virgon. When we settle, we can talk about it again.”  


“And when will that be?”

He ignored it, having no idea, and picked the next person.

“Speaking of leadership, Mr President, following Tom Zarek’s call, more and more people are asking for elections to be held to choose new leadership. How do you respond to that?”

Frakking Zarek, he should've had him killed when he had the chance.

“In my mind, it comes down to this: how much credit do you give the word of a terrorist? I would urge people not to believe in a man who knows only violence as a form of protest."

“So there will not be elections? Even though the law calls for it?”

“The law calls for a lot of things. And many of those things, I’m sure a sensible group like you will agree, are impractical right now as we focus on finding a new home. Next.”  


"Mr President, what do you respond to people who claim you are leading a massacre of those who don't share your opinion?"

If there had been a gun within reach, Adar couldn't say for sure he wouldn't have shot himself. This was not at all the simple experience he remembered. "I say that if they think me keeping everyone safe is a massacre, they're welcome to try their luck with a dictatorship."

"But with no Quorum and no election in sight, isn't that what we're looking at?"

"Next question."

“According to rumours-”

He held up a hand, shaking his head. “Let me stop you right there. I’m not here to respond to rumours. Next.”  


He stayed there for a long time, answering questions while being as evasive and diplomatic as humanly possible. Experience had taught him than agreeing to anything in front of the press was a surefire way of bringing more problems to his life. They’d relentlessly chase for updates, quote his words back at him. Sometimes, it was necessary, sometimes he managed to get away with saying nothing substantial at all.  


“How far from Earth are we?”

At some point came the dreaded question, but as he attempted to craft an answer, he noticed the very man who’d promised they’d find Earth standing in the back. They had a meeting the President was late for, but his presence there was, for once, welcome. “I’ll let Commander Adama answer this question,” he said. “Commander, please.”

It was a low blow and they both knew it. He wasn’t one to be easily intimidated, but the glare he received from the military leader as the man came to stand by the podium made him shrink back a little. Why should Adama be spared this, after all? They were in this together.

“When you see it outside the window, it means we’ve arrived,” was Adama’s short answer, not nearly enough to satisfy the herd of journalists.

Questions fused, unrestricted and unruly now and Adar made no move to stop them.  


“What does that mean?”

“Do we have a timeline?”

“Does Earth even exist?”

The President had to admit watching the hardass Commander struggle brought a little bit of pleasure. The man never looked out of depths, ordering his people around and saving the day with every single crisis. His people had found water and saved their lives over and over, and he’d even pulled an insane stunt to get them a fuel refill. At this point, people respected him more than they did Adar, which the President wasn’t willing to accept. It would do the public good to remember which one of them was articulate and civilised outside of a war room.

The Commander stood at the podium, regarding the press with the same impassive expression he did anything else, but his voice was mildly threatening. “Anyone spreading lies would do better to stop. Earth is still far enough, and in the interest of security, that’s all I will say about it.” Adams's determined, angry eyes moved to Adar next, walking away from the podium microphone so that only the President heard what he said next. “I’m not here to take part in the circus, Mr President. I’ll be on Galactica if you want to arrange a replacement meeting.” Then he turned on his heels and strode out of the room, making Adar feel like he hadn’t got the upper hand on this situation he thought he had.

#

Another meeting with the President. That was all Bill seemed to be doing these days. He now longed for the time when he’d never met Richard Adar and remained blissfully unaware of the size of his ego. For once, Adar had come to Galactica after he pulled that stunt at the press conference, and the same today, which was quite the improvement, although Bill wasn't enough of a fool to read anything into that about the President finally doing his job.  


They both sat in the wardroom, now, early shots of the new planet they’d discovered between them - Kobol, Iris had immediately claimed, like she was playing a game of guess-the-future. But considering the early examination of the planet’s ruins, he would be inclined to agree.

“I think we should consider permanent settlement,” he declared, earning a nod from the President.

“I would tend to agree. Have you sent that ground survey party?”

“They left an hour ago. When they’re back, we’ll know what’s possible.”

“Something worries me though. Scriptures do say that returning to Kobol will have consequences. In blood,” Adar said darkly, as if he believed it. Perhaps he did.  


Bill held back a sigh. “I forgot how religious you were. I don't think this should come into play here.”

“I’m going to let you in on a secret; I'm actually not. But the Gemenese are powerful allies that I can’t afford to cross. They’ll firmly oppose settlement if this is Kobol.”

“They’re welcome to stay in space if they want to.”

Adar snorted at his tone. “But they’ll be interested in the planet in any case. Kobol is supposed to point the way to Earth,” he said, with a pointed look. They hadn’t talked about Earth yet, and Bill had assumed either the President didn’t care he’d lied, or… well, no, that was all he’d come up with.

“Mr President, if we find an inhabitable planet, some legends aren’t going to keep us from it," he replied firmly.

“You call the Sacred Scrolls legends, Commander?” Adar asked, leaning back in his chair. “The book on which our civilisation is based?” He received no answer. “We do have a Cylon raider that can make long jumps, don’t we?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t you have a pilot who knows how to work the Cylon raider?”

Bill tried to hold on to his patience, but the President asking random questions one after the other made it difficult. He settled for nodding in response, leaning back into his own chair and setting his glasses down on the table.

“Let me lay it out for you," the President continued, which didn't promise anything good. "You don’t know where Earth is. Yes, I know you don’t. And now you’ve got everyone fooled. The Arrow of Apollo is on Caprica. If it has a chance to open the tomb of Athena and show the way to Earth, we’ll take it; fix the mess you made.”

“The mess I made?” Bill forced his voice to remain levelled even as it begged to rise. “The people needed hope. I gave them that. Without hope, we might all be dead right now.”

“Lovely of you. But what now? You don’t have a plan, I know that much.”

“And  _ you _ want to base our survival on a bunch of myths?”  


As if he wasn’t frustrated enough, Iris had to join the conversation, appearing behind the President, placing her hands on the table and looking at Bill. “Why do you never want to go? I don’t understand what trying costs you. Or is it the concept of having faith that bothers you? Actually believing in something. You need to believe in this.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ anything, Commander. I tell you what to do, and you do it,” Adar said pointedly. For a moment, they stared each other down, like some competition you’d lose if you looked away.

“Do you remember the Sacred Scrolls?” Iris asked, but Bill didn’t pay attention to her. “Bill, listen to me. It doesn’t work if you don’t find your way back together. You need to go. Damn it, I thought this body would make you listen.” Now, even the angel was frustrated. At least that made three of them.

The President kept talking since Bill still hadn't answered, his mind trying to take in all the new information at the same time. “If we have a Cylon raider and a pilot capable of flying it, there’s no reason not to take it back to Caprica. Or would you rather the people lose the hope you tried to give them? Lose all trust in you?”  


Was he threatening him? Bill straightened up and started gathering the plans and early photos of the planet. He was done here, wasn’t about to be bullied and blackmailed by a man who had no idea what he was talking about.  


“According to the scriptures, Earth exists,” Adar declared. “I’m helping you here.”

“According to the scriptures, one of us is dying and dreaming about serpents.”

“So you have read it.”

Iris hummed approvingly. She’d been the one to read the passage out loud to him since he refused anything she suggested. She could only be pleased the words had lingered around in his brain. “Listen to him and you’ll find her. Don’t be hardheaded.”

Bill swallowed a groan, unable to think with everyone speaking at the same time. “Shut up!”  


As soon as he said it, he froze, caught between anger and embarrassment. He was starting to turn crazy, and it had only taken six weeks of being haunted by a being pretending to be his long lost first love.  


Adar had taken a sip of his glass of water and coughed it out. ”Excuse me?”  


Bill shook his head, fully aware there was no denying the words he’d just spat out to the President of the Twelve frakking Colonies. “I'm sorry. Not you, Mr President.”

“Then who?” Adar looked around himself. It was all for show; he knew they were alone in the room.  


Bill could only wave it off, not having anything useful to reply to that. “The point stands that the raider is a military asset. This is a military decision, and we are not putting our  _ faith _ in old words about an arrow and a tomb.”

“And I’m the President of the Colonies. I don’t want to make this about rank.” Yes, he did want to do that. “If I say we’re going, Commander, this is an order.”  


And the Commander-in-Chief, knowing nothing of the military and basing their survival on the belief of a religious tale, decided of the fate of humanity. If Bill could still stand politicians at this point, he would lose the last of his patience now. Basing a whole plot on some political play -pleasing the radically religious- had to be the lowest thing he could imagine. At this point it would have been better if the President had  _ actually _ been religious. He could've dealt with that, but risking all of their lives to please part of the population? That was insane.

At least, Starbuck was as grumpy about the mission as Bill was about having to give it. But that this could lead them to Earth soothed her complaints a little bit, and she left with the Cylon raider. With it capable of making long jumps, it wouldn't take her as long as it would with a raptor, which was the whole idea. That, and passing for a toaster if Cylons still lingered around the Colonies. Worry tugged at his gut as he watched her leave, but there was nothing to do, the President had given his orders, and the Commander of the fleet wasn't about to declare martial law for an arrow.

In the meantime, one of the raptors from the ground survey mission came back, hurt and screaming Cylons ambushed them on Kobol. Bill devised a plan to try and rescue their survivors there, and Boomer, still recovering in sickbay, agreed to leave on the dangerous mission with Racetrack. Then the President could have his fun down on the planet if he wanted to while they replenished supplies before getting the hell out of there.  


That plan didn't end up working out so well.   
  



	7. Simon the Cylon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resistance faces trouble and meets new allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got unexpectedly heavy oopsie  
> Let's work with the assumption that the resistance never saw a number Eight on Caprica, mmkay?

Getting into the hospital in Pilgrim Bay had been easy enough for the group of survivors. Laura knew the structure well, having spent many hours there while her mother was being treated, right up until she died in one of those white rooms. That didn’t mean she knew where to find equipment and medicine, but she had basic knowledge of the layout. This was the vending machine that had refused to give her a snack as she anxiously waited for her mother to come out of surgery. This was the corner where she’d stood when the doctors had announced diloxin wasn’t working. This was the sign she’d stared at until her eyes burned as she willed herself not to cry at the prognosis.

Once in the supply closets, they filled the bags they’d brought with everything from bandages to painkillers and antiseptic. They didn’t keep a big stash of anti-radiation medicine at the hospital, simply because they hadn’t needed to, couldn’t have anticipated a nuclear apocalypse, and the resistance was once again confronted with their short-term prospects of survival. How long could they hold on? How long could they fight back? How long until radiation poisoning ended them, if not a Cylon bullet… or worse? 

“I heard something,” Sam abruptly said, looking to the door of the supply closet. “I’ll check on Wheeler and the others. You two stay here and finish packing.” His hand lingered on Jean’s back, the younger redhead of the group, before he left.

Laura gave the two a knowing look as she closed the zipper on a bag. 

“What?” Jean asked.

“Nothing.” Laura shrugged, not wanting to force the woman to face something she hadn’t realised. It wasn’t like the end of the world was the perfect place for relationships to blossom. But Jean wasn’t satisfied with that answer and waited, pausing her movementd. “You and Anders. It’s sweet, that’s all.”

“Nothing’s happening,” Jean protested, turning her head away to hide the faint blush that coloured her cheeks. 

Laura hummed in response and took a good look around. They’d taken everything they could, everything that was still usable, but she’d been surprised at the low stock for such a big hospital. Surely, the Cylons had no use for modern human medicine, did they?

“I think we’re done here.”

“The quicker we get out of here, the better,” Jean agreed, bending down to pick up two of the bags but then she looked at Laura again, thinking better of it. “But if there was something… what did he say?”

“Why would he tell  _ me  _ anything?” Laura was, after all, an addition to their group, a stranger, even though she’d got to know them pretty well over the past six weeks. Jean had been part of the C-Bucs, therefore sharing a lot more with Anders than a battle for their lives.

“You’re often together, planning.” It was Jean’s time to shrug, and she picked up the bags this time, moving towards the door. 

Whatever noise Sam Anders had heard didn’t seem to have alarmed him as he was walking back to them, weapon still firmly in hand as they’d all agreed that there were few things creepier than an empty, silent hospital. They made their way to the exit via a different route just in case - they had seen skinjobs going in, and better safe than sorry.

Sam suddenly held up his fist - a symbol he’d picked up from a movie and that they’d all adopted as meaning stop - and the why of it was immediately clear.

The hospital wasn’t silent.

Whimpers.

And a voice. A familiar one at that.

They barely had time to wonder when none other than Simon, the one and only doctor of the resistance, exited the room. Except that their Simon had a scar on his neck, which the man before them didn’t share. Sam was the fastest to react, shooting what was obviously a Cylon down. He fired as many shots as necessary, and at least one of them hit home. Laura shuddered violently at the idea of the man who had touched her being a frakking machine, that she’d allowed him this close with the possibility of being hurt, or killed. One look at the others proved they were thinking along the same lines… but worse since they’d known him longer.

Laura detached from the group, stepped over Simon’s body and entered the room he’d just come out of. Her stomach twisted at the sight, and she thought she might be sick, her face turning ghostly pale. They were… what the frak were they doing in there?

Off-hand comments about her age, about whether or not she had children came back to her mind, and she realised with indescribable horror what had happened to the women who’d disappeared from the base. Test subjects. Simon had been using the resistance to gather test subjects.

She barely registered the loud noise of gunshots in the corridor behind her as she took in the quiet monstrosity of the room she’d walked into. This was what humans had become. Lab rats. Baby factories.

With a shaking hand that didn’t help her aim, she raised her weapon to the blinking machine in the back of the room, the only idea that came to her overwhelmed mind. All those women… frak, if only she’d stopped Simon earlier, realised who he was, spoken up about it.

There was no use pondering now. There would be plenty of time to think about it later.

She pulled the trigger.

The blast didn’t exactly end where she’d intended it to, but it did hit  _ a  _ target, namely another Simon who’d come in through the door on the other end and was ready to shoot at them, too. The bullet hit him in the chest and he fell to the floor like a rag doll. Laura gasped, a hand shooting up to cover her mouth. She’d never intentionally harmed anyone before, not in all those days she’d been down here. But then this was a machine, not a human. She had to remind herself of that. That was one of the machines. 

“Thanks,” came a voice behind Laura and when she looked at Sam, she realised who Simon had intended to shoot down.

She swallowed, took a steadying breath, then met his eyes. “You’re welcome, but this was accidental.”

“Accidentally saving my life counts.” He shrugged. “What the frak is happening here?”

“Shoot the machine,” she directed coldly. “We can’t let them do this.”

“Centurions!” Jean warned them from the corridor where she kept watch. “Get the hell out.”

Sam picked the weapon out of Laura’s hands, not trusting her not to kill one of them in her state, and fired at what seemed to be the centre of activity. Machines flatlined for a second before shutting off completely, deprived of power. 

There was one thing Laura hadn’t anticipated in her frenzied state: the fact that the machines kept those women alive, and there was no one to rescue now that they’d ended their life support. What a frakking mess. Realistically, there would have been no way to get them out and care for them with Centurions on their asses, but the result of it still hurt like a knife in the gut. 

“Come on, we’re not dying here today,” Anders exclaimed, pulling her away. There wasn’t a second to spare, they couldn’t give that to the coming Centurions who already outgunned them. If they got away, it would already be by the skin of their teeth, so any head start they managed to retain would be more than welcome. 

They suffered several injuries in the escape but eventually came through to the other side. The resistance had become more organised and efficient in the last few weeks as they found a rhythm, arranging schedules, training and slightly improved tactics. They’d salvaged -stolen- several vehicles that came in handy, especially now, with Wheeler badly shot in the thigh and not able to make it too far on foot, even supported as he was by the others.

Emboldened by finally finding their feet, the human resistance had carried out more actions to strike back and considered plans on how to potentially get out of the planet. But to go where? After she’d got more comfortable with the group’s trustworthiness, Laura had shared what she’d learned at the very beginning, that other humans were still out there, being chased by Cylons across the stars. Or at least, they had been at the time, and nothing was a given, but this was the fragment of hope they all held on to. 

So, naturally, when Laura heard a voice mentioning the very ship that had escaped the massacre of the Colonies, she stopped dead and strained her ears to listen. They were almost back at the vehicle they’d parked in a hidden spot to avoid detection around the hospital and the voice, somewhat angry and upset, demanded explanations.

“No. What I need from you is a way off this planet so I can get back to Galactica.” 

“I told you, Helo, but you won’t listen-”

Laura held up a hand when Jean called her to keep moving, needing to hear more of the conversation. Too late. A man and a woman in flight suits, guns in hand rounded the corner and came into view. Members of the resistance turned around, drawing their own weapons. Laura’s own was still with Anders, but she wouldn’t have been terribly useful with it anyway. She longed for the time when she didn’t have any knowledge of the weight of a gun.

“Who are you?” the man demanded, gesturing to the whole group of them with his gun.

“We’re not Cylons,” Laura replied coolly. “What happened to the Galactica?” There was no reason to beat around the bush. 

“How do you-”

“Can we all leave the guns out of this, please?” she asked, keeping her voice levelled to avoid startling anyone who might have been too trigger-happy. Anders looked at her warily and she stared back. They’d formed some sort of bond in the time they’d spent together, coming to trust each other, something upon which she had to call now.

She couldn’t be sure the two people in front of her were allies, but something inexplicable pushed her to believe in their humanity, to believe in  _ them _ . She fought back against it, having never liked things she couldn’t explain, but ultimately, the feeling prevailed. Come to think of it, it was the same one that had pushed her to leave her office early the day of the attacks, made her sense that Anders was important and cultivate a relationship, two decisions that had saved her life.

“Is this-”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, the Caprica Buccaneers. How did you survive the attacks?” 

“We were supposed to go back with the President. Our raptor was shot. How did you?”

“We got organised. We looked out for survivors.” 

“Make the frakking introductions later. This area is crawling with toasters.” A call behind Laura reminded them of where they were, and the danger they exposed themselves to with each moment they remained out in the open. That was an absolutely valid concern, and needed to immediately be addressed.

Laura looked over to Sam once more, seeking his approval on the matter. While she’d taken the lead on some aspects, he remained the one to call the shots on the field. She’d never been interested in taking that role anyway.

He eventually nodded. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” was all he said before they made it back to the vehicles.

On the ride back, Laura grilled their new recruits about their backgrounds, learned about Sharon Valerii and Karl Agathon -although his companion kept calling him Helo-, Lieutenants in the Colonial Fleet, stationed aboard the Galactica. When she asked if they knew anything about the situation now, they said they didn’t. Expected, but still disappointing. 

When they pulled up at the resistance headquarters with the new residents and new medical supplies to put their minds at ease, several members came out to greet them even though rain was starting to pour down on them. They formed a small crowd in the middle of which stood the doctor, ready just in case every time a group came back from a mission. 

Everyone froze. 

Frak. Between all that, they’d forgotten about Simon.

Sam, Jean and Jemmy were the quickest to react and draw weapons again. Simon regarded them with calm curiosity as they yelled for everyone to get away from him  _ right now _ .

“What’s going on?” he asked as if he didn’t know. They were probably all wired to speak to each other, weren’t they? Surely, he would know. 

“Wait.”

Anders was one second away from blowing the Cylon’s brains out, but Jean stopped him. He glared at her, waiting expectantly for an explanation.

She jutted her chin towards the car where Wheeler still sat, keeping dry and relatively unmoving. A strip of cloth had been wrapped around his thigh but blood kept pouring out of the gash, and his face had lost all colour, trembling voice assuring them he was still alive in there. He would die if his wound was left unattended. But the only person capable of saving him was the same one who’d exterminated billions of humans and experimented on Gods knew how many more. 

“Frak, no we can’t-”

Laura felt even sicker about this debate now that she’d seen this model’s playthings and his twisted, mad scientist ways. It couldn’t be allowed to touch another human. It simply could not. Only when a hand was lightly placed on her arm did she realise she was shaking with rage. She turned a cold glare to the one who’d touched her and dialled it back slightly at the sight of her friend. She had no idea where Wally had come from, but was grateful for his presence now.

“Are you alright, Laura?” he asked, but she wasn’t the one he should be worried about. He should be furious, debating with the others who kept shouting over each other about what to do with the Cylon. Instead, he just looked at her.

“It’s not about me,” she snapped, forcing the tremors out of her body. _ It’s not about me _ . Oddly, it was that thought that brought her the answer. The choice they were all debating wasn’t theirs to make anyway.

“Quiet,” she called, loud enough to be heard over the loud arguments. No more nonsense. “This is Wheeler’s decision.” If it was up to her, Simon would be dead at their feet, preventing him from doing any more harm to the remaining members of humanity, but letting him save Wheeler would just mean he died later, after repairing at least one of the lives he’d tried to take.

“You operate on the basis that I have anything to gain by helping you,” Simon intervened, a rare occurrence in the current debate. He hadn’t tried to defend himself, or convince them he’d meant no harm all along.

“What is he going to do? Kill me?” Wheeler made a weak attempt at humour that only those closest to the car heard. Gods he looked bad. 

“I’m the only reason all of you are still alive. When I die, my consciousness will download into a new body, and once I tell them that I’m through with you… it’s over,” Simon said rather flatly, as if the thought of dying had no meaning to him. For all their tries to appear human, that was one thing the machines would never understand. Mortality.

“Tie the frakker up,” Anders ordered no one in particular, yet his instruction was followed. “We’ll do this ourselves. We’ll save him. You’ll see.”

Now he was delusional, and as they carried the injured young man out of the car and inside the rundown building, Laura stayed outside in the rain, letting it wash over her. There was nothing else to do, and she couldn’t bear to see him die, as cowardly as that felt. She turned her face up to the sky, closing her eyes and pushing her wet hair out her face. She would regret staying out in the acid rain later, but not now; not when it washed away the despair of the situation, the horror at her earlier discovery and every drop of poison that had accumulated under her skin throughout the day. 

She was the only one stupid enough to stay out, and when she eventually got back inside, Wally was watching her and offered a towel. This was even newer to him than it was to her - he didn’t regularly get outside the base, his talents -outside of politics- lying more in fixing things on the mechanical side, and being quite gifted with his hands at that. Though Laura was no better at the intricacies of war than he was, she’d realised early on she’d go mad if she stayed behind every single time. She had to do  _ something _ .

“I never knew you had a tattoo,” he commented, an attempt to divert to a more lighthearted topic, to diffuse the bomb that ticked away inside her chest, the flame that even the torrential rain hadn’t drowned out.

Laura’s eyes snapped down to her ribs, fingers trailing over the wet fabric of the shirt that clung to her skin. The black outline of the bird of prey permanently marked on her body was just visible through the light blue fabric. “I got it when I was young and wild.”  _ and in love, so in love we got matching tattoos like the idiots that we were. _

“Why, Laura Roslin, here I thought I learned enough about you over the years. But I don’t actually know you, do I?” Wally tried to joke. She wondered what he was doing there trying to cheer her up, but that was what friends did, wasn’t it? They’d talked about his wife the other night, and the life they used to have, and she’d seen how he was as wary inside as she was, but equally as unwilling to give up. They made quite the pair now, politicians in the middle of a war zone. 

And to answer his question, she didn’t really know herself anymore either, to be fair. The woman she used to be, soft-spoken, mild, (sometimes when she felt like it) docile mistress to the President seemed so far away now. “It sounds like a bad thing, but I’m going to take it as a compliment.” 

“It’s not a bad thing. There’s more to you than the polite woman in Adar’s shadow, and I think that’s great.”

Was it great? Maybe. Maybe something would come out of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise we didn't see much of Helo and Sharon in this chapter, but they'll be there in the next one a little bit, along with someone else ;)


	8. Goodbye, Caprica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An arrow and a ship

“They call them farms.”

“How do you know that?”

They were sitting outside, after a day of recovering from the events of the hospital. Wheeler hadn’t made it, and his death loomed over the camp, undermining morale, hope and the will to do anything. Helo and Sharon sat on steps near the pyramid court, unsure where their place was in this, and after observing for a long moment, Laura had come out to join them. She was on the hunt for new information. It wasn’t every day that two officers of the Colonial Fleet fell into her lap, especially two who were part of Galactica’s crew. It was still such a wonder to her that Bill’s ship had escaped the fight, but then, maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised; if anyone could pull a stunt like that, it was him. 

“We’ve encountered one already,” Sharon said, looking at her hands. Her shoulder was bandaged but no one had asked; they all assumed it to be a Cylon-related injury, just like all of theirs.

“Do you know how many are out there?” Laura asked, the possibility of so many more suffering humans making her head spin. 

Sharon shook her head. “No, but I’m assuming many.”

“So what exactly do you do here?” Helo asked, casting a glance around them before his eyes settled on Laura. Well, they weren’t having a picnic, that was for sure.

“Trying to survive, get back at the Cylons, rescue who we can. You didn't catch us on a good day.”

“Do you have any way of getting off the planet?” He was so eager, so determined, but with a plan to do what, exactly, once out of here? He’d claimed having no way of knowing where Galactica was, and surviving alone in space brought the same chance of survival than staying down there. 

“We’ve thought of options. But we’re lacking a destination. It’s not enough to just get out of here.”

“Didn’t Simon say as soon as he died you were all dead, too?” Sharon asked. She was right, they couldn’t stay there, but trying to move sixty people to another place and starting over was simply impossible. WIth the revelation of a traitor in their midst and the loss of one of their most cheerful members, the resistance was drained and hopeless. This was without mentioning that everything they’d lived through, everything they’d sacrificed didn’t matter in the end, because the Cylons had  _ allowed  _ them to live, knowing where they were and able to crush them at any time. That was one blow too many.

“He did,” Laura confirmed, feeling a trace of lingering unease at that. They hadn’t done anything with him yet. He was held in one of the old classrooms and watched at all times, but this was no solution. “He keeps saying that procreation is part of God’s plan. That they need to be able to do it.” She missed the way Sharon and Helo exchanged a look as she continued. “Cylon-Human reproduction. We can’t let that happen.”

#

One of the perks of the newcomers being Colonial Officers was that they knew where to find secret weapon depots. The resistance desperately needed a victory, so they organised a raid two days later with their new allies. This time, Laura was content to stay back. She watched them leave before dawn like a mother watched her children leave for school every morning. But then, perhaps not. She had the experience from one side, the side of the teacher reassuring both parents and children, seeing teary faces on the first day of kindergarten, but not that of the parent, anxiously parting from their young ones. 

A painful twinge in her hand brought her back to the present and away from the school, blown to bits, and the children, all dead. She had unconsciously clenched her fist, and her newly healed fingers didn’t appreciate the rough treatment. Luckily, she was right-handed.

So Helo, Sharon, Sam and a few select others left, unsure of whether this ‘secret’ spot was still undiscovered by Cylons or if they were walking to their deaths.

For once, everything happened like it was supposed to and they came out with buckets of skinjob-killing ammunitions, and entire batches of toaster-frying explosives. It felt good. 

On the way back, they drove past the Museum of the Colonies in Delphi and Sharon’s eyes widened. “Stop here,” she said, eyes glued to the building.

“Why?” Anders asked, not ready to stop their return on a simple request.

“There’s something important here. The only clue. We need it.”

“What are you talking about?” Helo distinctly remembered her telling him about the importance of the Arrow of Apollo displayed in the museum, but still couldn’t understand why she was obsessed with it. They couldn’t do anything with the relic.

And he couldn’t speak out against her plan without attracting the rest of the group’s suspicions. Ever since she’d said she was pregnant, he didn’t know what to do anymore, but revealing her Cylon nature to the human survivors would mean certain death for her, and their unborn child. So silence it was then.

“You do whatever you want, I’m going,” she decided, effectively forcing everyone’s hand. 

But just as they were out of the car, a Cylon raider flew over their heads and came to land in front of the museum entrance. Helo looked at Sharon, a question of  _ what the frak are you doing _ in his gaze. It couldn’t be a coincidence. But she shook her head, insisting that it wasn’t her.

The raider landed, and out of it came a blonde woman in clothes that looked military. When she surveyed her surroundings and turned to climb the steps, realisation dawned on the other two Colonial officers. Starbuck. What the hell was she doing here, on Caprica, in a Cylon raider? 

Sam had taken his gun out and aimed before Helo could react. “Don’t,” he urged. “I know her.”

“You’re a Cylon, too?”

“Funny. Let’s go.”

Starbuck had already run up the steps and entered the building, so they followed, and as soon as they put a foot inside, Helo found himself with a gun at his temple. Of course Kara would have noticed them. 

“Starbuck?” he exclaimed. “Gods, I thought it was you, but what are you doing here?”

She lowered her weapon and they hugged, Kara as dumbstruck as he was. “I thought you were dead, you frakker!”

Helo grinned at her, but quickly lost all joy when Kara stared behind him, shoving him away and shooting at Sharon. She only missed because he pushed her arm at the last second. Sharon took cover as Kara tried it again.

“She’s a frakking Cylon!” she yelled in rage as Helo tried his hardest to grab her weapon and make her stop. Surely gunshots would attract toasters and they didn’t want that.

“I know,” he groaned, still holding her arm. “She’s pregnant.”

Starbuck didn’t look any less ready to pounce; if anything, she was even more enraged. “She’s lying to you. That’s all they do. Lie. She can’t be pregnant, don’t be an idiot.”

“She’s not lying. She helped me get this far. She’s the reason I’m alive.”

“You can’t have a baby with a machine. You have to know that. What the frak did she do to you?”

While they argued about the probability of human-cylon children and how far in the stupidity scale did Helo fall, Sharon had fled and taken the raider away with her. 

Kara kicked a piece of rock so hard it flew to the other side of the room and hurt her foot in the process, not that she cared right now. “Nice job, now she took my ride.” 

Sam had found it smarter not to interfere in the exchange, but now he cleared his throat, no longer fearing for his life if he interrupted the fierce woman. He’d been too busy wondering what the hell was going on to notice Sharon slipping away. “Any chance of getting an explanation?”

Kara turned her glare to him. “What, did you knock  _ him  _ up too, Helo?”

“This is Sam Anders,” Helo said instead of answering Starbuck's dig. “We found a group of survivors three days ago.”

“How did you survive on a planet full of toasters when you couldn’t even win your last game?” she asked, regarding Anders defiantly.

He snorted and lifted his chin, but his lips pulled into a grin. “Do you volunteer to be my next victory?” 

“Someone’s full of himself. But I’m on a mission. No time for games.” With that said, she walked further among the debris of the museum to the case where the Arrow of Apollo was displayed.

She closed her hand around the golden arrow just as another skinjob copy stepped up to them and grabbed Anders by the throat, displaying an inhuman amount of strength. Kara’s bullet hit her right in the head, and she fell down, releasing her victim who’d had no time to react. 

“I have the Arrow, now I need to find another way off this planet,” Kara said without missing a beat and the other two followed her out.

#

That night after the group came back with yet another guest, Laura took it upon herself to gain more information. Sam had only said their new guest was on a mission, but not the many details. And since she seemed very friendly with their only other remaining officer, it stood to reason she’d be from Galactica.

She found the woman coming out of the room where they held Simon and caught up with her. Kara, she’d been told was her name, had taken her marks quickly in the few hours she’d been there, showing resilience that Laura hadn’t seen in a lot of people.

“Kara, is that right?” Laura asked even though she remembered, a way to start up a conversation. “I’m Laura.”

Kara nodded. “They say you’re the Secretary of Education.”

“I was. Did President Adar send you on that mission?” 

“The Arrow of Apollo is supposed to point the way to Earth.”

“But there is no Earth,” Laura argued, distinctly remembering her conversation with Richard about it. “We talked about that. The President didn’t know anything about its existence.”

“He was adamant we go down to Kobol with the arrow, that’s all the Old Man told me.”

“Who?”

Kara snorted at her own slip. “Sorry. Commander Adama.”

Laura smiled. So this was how people on Bill’s ship referred to him. That was different from Husker, for sure, held an air of familiarity that she was sure he’d cultivated amongst his people.

Sensing there was in Laura’s expression some information she didn’t know, Kara dug further, “What?”

“Nothing.” Laura shook her head, but the smile remained. 

“Anyway, once I get off this planet, I guess we’ll go down to Kobol.” 

“Do you really think we’ll find Earth?”

Kara shrugged and changed the subject. “I can’t believe you guys found Helo. We thought he’d died.” 

“I thought we’d die too.”

“Fair point.”

Laura saw Anders walking past them and called him to join the conversation. “Sam, come and tell us about your plan.” 

He stopped for long enough that Laura recognised the troubled look on his face, the same one he’d had so often in the beginning. “Not now, we’re leaving. Where the hell have you two been? Get ready.” 

There had been a debate going on before Laura had walked away, needing to get some rest and discuss Kara’s mission at the same time. Now the debate had apparently reached its conclusion and they were leaving. Their position was compromised, not only with Simon’s threat, but with Sharon who they’d brought here and who was now out and about with their secret. They couldn’t stay there, but the opposing argument was just as strong: where to go? Where to cram sixty people, hiding from Cylons and surviving with uncontaminated food and water?

But they’d made their decision now, and they’d take their chances. With a little -a lot- of luck, they’d actually be able to put their plan into motion, steal one or two Cylon ships and be out before they lost their lives. 

Despite the new urgency of the situation and the nervous buzz of activity as everyone rushed to grab what they’d need before leaving, there was an air of positivity to each interaction. This was the closest they’d come to safety in weeks. If they didn’t get killed by toasters on the way out of the base. If they didn’t get killed waiting in the mountains. If they didn’t get killed trying to steal heavy raiders. Always if, but uncertainty was a step up from hopelessness.

Getting rid of Simon was the last thing they did before exiting the building, but even his additional threats didn’t tamper the mood.

The figure who stood in the driveway and blocked their escape, however, did. Several weapons immediately aimed at Sharon, and she held up her hands in a gesture of peace. 

“You’re leaving? Good, they’re coming for you,” she said, her eyes scanning the crowd, searching for something - someone.

“Sharon,” someone warned. Laura turned her head and saw Helo take a few steps forward. Something clicked in her mind and she remembered her shock at the news earlier. Yes, the Cylon was pregnant, or claimed to be, at least. She had come back for him. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing, not me personally. I only left to let Kara cool her heels. She would have killed me.”

Kara drew her weapon then, pointing it at the Cylon once more. “I’m still gonna blow your wires out.” 

Laura looked between all of them and resisted the urge to groan out loud. J _ ust frakking shoot already, she’s only delaying our exit to make sure the toasters get all of us _ . 

“You need me to leave the planet,” Sharon claimed.

“Give me one good reason,” Anders said. “We already know how to get one of your ships. We don’t need you.”

“Only Cylons can pilot heavy raiders. I’m your only chance of getting out of here alive. I didn’t have to come back.” She glanced at Helo. “But I’m here. So you either accept my help or you don’t. But you do it fast.”

The unpleasant truth settled in the resistance members’ mind. They needed their enemy to survive. They could all die here, and not accept the help of a Cylon, and sure, they wouldn’t have betrayed themselves and could be proud of not having meddled with Cylons, but they’d also be very dead. This was truly their only chance. So they took her back in and left, leaving behind the place that had housed them since the attacks. 

#

They stopped in the middle of the woods after driving a while and putting a safe distance between them and their old headquarters. They would make two teams, one made of their best fighters who’d get them the means of transportation, and the other one made of the rest of them who’d hide out in the mountains and wait. Jean and Laura would take the lead of the mountains team, while Sam and Kara would head the other one. Both would definitely require a great dose of luck. More than ever, they were at the mercy of anything, with nowhere to crawl back to if things went south. 

“We meet here at 11,” Anders reminded all of them, pointing at a spot on the map they’d laid out on the hood of one of the cars.

“And if one team didn’t make it?” Jean asked what they all thought. 

“The rest goes on.”

That wasn’t exactly true; they were playing with everything that they had. But he couldn’t say that. None of them could.

“What-”

There was almost no warning before the deafening noise of shots fired filled the air. Toasters had found them again. As everyone who was out of the vehicles rushed to take cover, Laura launched herself at Kara next to her, sending them both to the floor, their heads knocking together.

And then she couldn’t move, even as the pilot tried to get free of her weight to stand up and fight back. She managed, because she was young and strong, but Laura stayed there on the ground, staring up at the sky as bullets flew through the air above. She only realised she was in pain when the noise stopped and someone touched her, a piercing pain shooting through her side, something hot dripping down her stomach. 

“Laura! Do you hear me?”

“Frak, she might be concussed on top of that.”

“Yeah, she banged my head with a vengeance.”

“We need to frakking leave now before they come again.”

With an effort that felt superhuman, Laura managed to focus and be more than a dead weight as several pairs of hands tried to pull her to her feet and back inside the car. She sat next to Jean once more who looked at her with worried eyes and pressed a bunched up t-shirt to her side to try and stop the bleeding.

The headache refused to fade but the fog in her brain cleared enough that she was able to hold the garment herself. She took it out for a second though, to watch the damage done. It looked like the bullet had only gone through the soft side of her abdomen, coming out the other side. It could have been a lot worse, but that wasn’t her thinking at the moment. Looking at the bloody wound seemed to make it hurt even more, so she closed her eyes, putting pressure on it. Not only did it frakking hurt and made her pant like she’d just run for an hour, but now she was out if any more action happened. Idly, she wondered how long it would take for her to die here. Certainly a lot less time than the others. 

Jean’s determined voice reached her ears. “You’re not gonna die, Laura.”

She must’ve said that out loud. “It’s alright. I hope you’ll manage to get off the planet.”

“Self-sacrificing hero, huh? That won’t work here. We’ll wait out and they’ll come to meet us with that frakking ship we need and we’ll leave together. Surely that Battlestar of yours has an infirmary.”

That Battlestar of hers. The thought made Laura smile lightly, though she had no idea why. She really must be concussed.

They took their position in the mountains, where they had a view of the clearing where the heavy raider they put all their hopes into would land. They left the vehicles behind and Laura ended up sitting on the ground with her back against a large tree. Waiting was the worst, and she felt lightheaded, and slightly annoyed at the people hovering around her as if she was about to die. There was nothing any of them could do.

#

They were late.

It was past 11, but the team in the mountains really didn’t have any other plan, despite their earlier conversation, so they stayed.

Finally, a ship landed in that clearing, and with the attack team came back the hope of being free of this place. Jean threw herself into Sam’s arms when the group was back and Laura studied his face. Victorious. Everything was fine. She smiled at him when their eyes met but he only frowned at her in concern. Come on, she couldn’t look that bad. Helo stood to the side with Sharon, secure in the knowledge that her safety was not compromised as long as they needed her. After that, well, who knew? 

Sam and Kara came towards Laura at the same time and had the good grace of crouching down so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck.

“How are you doing?” Anders asked, glancing at the bloodied t-shirt.

“I’m fine. It’s just a graze. If any of my organs were touched I’d be dead by now.”

“Right,” Kara snorted but didn’t comment further. She didn’t look fresh either. It must have been one hell of a fight over there. “Thank you.” she paused and looked at Anders before continuing. “Good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” Laura decided. She was used to those by now, had come to expect them. And really, what could surprise her now, while she sat on the nuked Caprican ground about to board a Cylon ship to join the fleet led by two men she’d been involved with? 

“Ok I cheated, because you’ve already seen the good news, we have the ship,” Kara declared with an implicit ‘tada!’ as she gestured to somewhere behind her.

“Bad news is, all of us won’t fit on there,” Anders continued.

"We'll make two trips to bring everyone on board then," Laura said, simply.

"I don't think the Old Man will agree to that,” Kara said. “It’s dangerous enough making one trip."

"I'm not leaving anyone on this planet, so he'll just have to deal with it.” Laura rolled her eyes, making Kara snigger.

“You don't know him, it's cute."

"I know him rather well, actually."

Kara gaped slightly at that. “Do you?”

"I'll stay here to come with the second group,” Laura said in a tone she meant to be serious and resolute. “I hope that'll be motivation enough to send the ship back." Yes, that was a big risk, but she knew that even if Bill was angry at her about their history, he wouldn't let her die out here. He’d never been that kind of man. He wasn’t vindictive; he wasn’t Richard. 

“I’ll stay, too.”

“No, you have a mission.”

Kara stubbornly crossed her arms. “Then we have a frakking problem, don’t we?” 

Laura looked at Sam. “You go first.”

“Oh sure, I’ll tell the President of the Colonies and the Commander of the Fleet that I left the women they want back on Caprica at the hands of the toasters. They’ll have my ass.”

Laura groaned. “We need to force Bill and Richard not to give up.”

“ _ Bill  _ and  _ Richard _ ,” Kara repeated with a sly smile. “Awfully cosy, Madam Secretary.”

Laura sent the woman a glare that was more out of embarrassment than anything else, and Kara laughed in response. “Anyway.”

“That can’t be a discussion, Laura,” Sam said in the voice he used to lead missions. “You’re hurt. You can’t afford to wait out here. You two go with the first group. I’ll stay with the rest.”

Kara sent him a warning look. “You better not frakking die out here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Laura managed to stand up, leaning into Kara, and slowly, they made their way to the ship where Sharon and Helo waited. She was the only one who could pilot the raider, and he wouldn’t leave her side, so both of them would make both trips. 

Sitting down again between two people, Laura let out a sigh, her injury more than ever making its presence known. They were right. Even though the wound wasn’t terribly bad, she couldn’t have stayed.

As they took off, her heart was with the people they left behind, prisoners, victims of the Cylons’ experiments. But there was no way they could’ve saved them all. The war was lost, they couldn’t take on all the Cylons on their own; she’d had to repeat that to Anders a few times, and now had to do the same with herself. They had to think about the future now, about reuniting with their kind, and finding Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it!! (who can tell how excited I am...)


	9. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not as she expected as Laura comes aboard Galactica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got slightly rambly in this chapter and didn't realise it had got a bit long haha oh well!

Every time they jumped, Laura felt lightheaded, like she was losing her grip on reality. She almost got sick once, too, but that might also have something to do with nerves. It was easy enough to forget about everything else and live by the day on Caprica, never taking the luxury of wondering what she would do if she saw some people again. Some people… no, it really was just the two. 

William Adama, the Commander she’d first known when he was a rook pilot, but a prodigy… his words. Handsome, loving, unbearably cocky, The last time she’d seen him, he’d changed slightly - just as bold, just as passionate, his smile that made her weak at the knees just as brilliant, but the fifteen years between the first time she’d left him and seeing him again had brought a depth of feelings behind his eyes and more control in his posture. She’d placed a kiss on his temple, pulled her red dress back on and left without a word while he slept. Now there was plenty to say to him. There was plenty he’d have to say to her, she’d imagine. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d ignore their history, treat her like all the other civilian refugees on the ship, and she couldn’t decide what would be worse. 

Richard Adar, the President, the used-to-be ally. At least, she knew what to expect from him, and he would no doubt be talking a lot. For two reasons, really: one, they hadn’t been on the best of terms when he left and he’d be picking up that conversation, and two, that man loved the sound of his own voice. They’d been friends for years before they were something more, something for distraction, for nice, simple fun - now she couldn’t settle for the easy relationship he'd provided any longer. How was he doing, being the President of the last of humanity stuck in space? She was sure that brought its own unique challenges, and he’d never been the best to deal with change. This was why he’d been the President of the status quo, of no significant improvement, but no disasters either - apart from that time in Aerilon.

Gods, she could only hope she wouldn’t have to see both at the same time. They had no reason to know about the other’s personal connection to her, and she intended for it to stay that way. Richard could have an unpleasant jealous side, for someone who slept around while married.

When they finally stopped jumping, Laura willed her head to quit spinning so she could focus on Kara’s voice. Several pieces of sentences registered. First,  _ “This is Starbuck,” _ then, _ “mission accomplished,” _ and  _ “I have civilians on board who need medical assistance.” _

Once they’d docked and the door opened, Laura stood up despite her body’s protest and caught Kara before she could walk out with the others.

“Wait. Now we send the ship back.”

Kara’s face was slightly displeased when she answered. “We can’t yet. We need the Commander’s approval for every ship that leaves.”

Laura wanted to sigh, but if that was the protocol, they’ll have to stick to it. “Alright, let’s take it to him.”

They got off and saw the welcoming party composed of a bunch of heavily-armed soldiers standing on alert around the Cylon ship, with a young man standing in the middle of them, his eyes fixed on Kara, the colour of them reminding Laura of Bill. 

“Lee,” Kara grinned widely at him as they made their way towards each other and met for a hug in the middle. She whispered something in his ear that Laura couldn’t hear, and Lee blushed slightly.

“Took you long enough, Starbuck,” he said aloud. 

“I brought friends. What can I say, sir, I’m a people person.”

Lee Adama. Laura couldn’t claim she would’ve recognised him in another context. But then, she’d only known him when he was five years old. That was a long time ago. He wasn’t the bright and stubborn child who insisted he had the right answer when he’d done the wrong exercise altogether. It was really her luck that she’d taught Bill’s children.

But before she could say anything to him, Sharon appeared behind her and all hell broke loose. Lee’s face became twisted with anguish and fury, pointing his own weapon at her even though the Marines had it more than covered.

“No, we need her to go back to Caprica and get the rest of our people,” Laura intervened. The glare that Lee turned to her also reminded her of Bill. 

“That  _ thing  _ put two rounds into my father’s chest,” he thundered, anger threatening to rip his body apart.

The only thing louder than Laura’s gasp was Kara crying out “What? Adama was shot?”

Laura shivered in horror and her knees finally gave out, stumbling down onto the floor. She’d barely been strong enough to stand on her feet before, but this was too much. In the chaos that followed, medics arrived and hauled her up on a stretcher, which she couldn’t even care about. Bill had been shot.

“Is he alive?” she forced herself to ask.

“Cottle thinks he’ll live. Had two surgeries,” Lee replied without taking his focus away from the Cylon. He had the look of a man who’d seen it happen, which made the whole thing that much tragic. 

Sharon was promptly arrested and Helo’s protests cut short by a new arrival. “What are you waiting for? Take that thing to the brig.”

Helo took another step forward. “Colonel Tigh, she didn’t do it. It wasn’t her. She-”

“You’re frakking lucky you’re not joining her,” Tigh barked, not waiting for the end of the excuses. 

“Are you in command?” Laura asked, forcing medics to stop taking her away so she could speak. She would see Bill, she would, but they needed to go back to Caprica now before their people got slaughtered, and this man seemed to have authority around there.

Saul looked at her, seemingly assessing her dangerousness. “For now.” 

“Then you need to send the ship back to our people on Caprica. We couldn’t all come on the raider at the same time. You need to send the ship back and save them.”

“I  _ need  _ to? Are you out of your godsdamned mind?” The set of his eyes and the downward curve of his mouth told her everything he thought of her: not dangerous, but insane.

“No, not yet. We have a duty to-”

“Get her out of there,” he ordered. “She’s Cottle’s problem now.”

Laura took the defeat for what it was, clutching her side, and had to lie down on the stretcher which actually was a relief, even if she hated being wheeled around like an object.  _ I should've frakking stayed down there with the others. _

Sickbay, they called the infirmary where medics took her, was busy. After weeks of encountering empty building after empty building with no sign of human life apart from their small group, seeing so much activity shocked her brain. Sickbay especially was a hive of doctors and nurses going about, even busier now with the new arrivals.

She had to have been the worst of them, because she was immediately tended to, set up on a bed, her shirt removed and the wound assessed. She was asked several questions about what happened and answered them to the best of her memory. The curtain that had been drawn around her bed was pulled back and what this time looked like a doctor stepped up to the bed, simultaneously the oldest and the grumpiest Laura had ever had to deal with.

“Gunshot wound, the area is clean. Possible concussion.” He was briefed by the first nurse that had done the preparations. 

“Dr Cottle, is it?” Laura asked. Tigh had said she was Cottle’s problem, so this might be him. He grumbled a yes. “Can I see Commander Adama? Where is he?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Why not?” She sucked a breath through her teeth as he touched around the wound at her side with what she wouldn’t qualify to be a gentle hand.

“That’s why,” he replied without looking up at her face. If he had, he would’ve been met by her purest glare.

Instead, he started quizzing her on allergies, medicine intolerance and health history. She had to mention cancer then, although surely he could see the scar on the side of her breast. But scar or not, she had to be explicit about it, how she’d survived the frakking disease.

Not long after that, painful needles pierced the skin below her ribs, and she thankfully couldn’t feel the injury anymore. She rested her head back against the pillow, but every time she closed her eyes, he poked her so that she’d stay awake on the basis that they still hadn’t established how serious her concussion was.

“You’re lucky it hit you there. A little to the right and you had irreparable damage,” Cottle said as he finished with the stitches. 

“I feel very lucky. When can I leave?”

“Do you have headaches?” he asked, ignoring her question. “Dizziness? Nausea?”

“Yes, yes, no,” she replied diligently as he shone a very rude bright light in each of her eyes. She saw stars afterwards and blinked rapidly. But it wasn’t over; then she had to prove she could move her limbs as she wished to, and he took the opportunity to admonish her for forgetting to mention her broken finger earlier during the health history section. 

“Tell me what happened,” he then instructed, and she gave him an impatient look. She’d already told the nurse what happened before he arrived, but he didn’t seem to care. “Unless you don’t remember. Then it’s definitely a grave injury and you’ll spend even more time with me.”

Laura groaned but eventually complied. “We were out looking at a map. There were shots. I threw myself and Kara on the floor, my head hit hers.” 

Cottle frowned. What? She remembered perfectly - hadn’t she passed his test? “Thrace?” 

“Yes.”

“For frak’s sake,” he muttered and yelled through the gap in the curtain he made with his hand. “Someone get me Starbuck.”

Laura almost felt bad for Kara and the lecture she’d receive from the irascible doctor for not getting her head checked.

“I remember everything. I even know my own name,” she said sarcastically, which seemed to slightly amuse the doctor, who nevertheless continued with his questions about everything and nothing. The last one made Laura smile lightly, just because of the absolute perfect timing of it.

“Who’s the President?” 

Just then, said President stepped in the open space between the curtains. Laura looked up into the face of Richard Adar who stared at her like she’d just come back from the dead. And she had.

“He’s right behind you.”

“Mr President,” Cottle greeted, standing up from his stool. He looked back at Laura sternly. “You’ll stay here until I’m satisfied it’s not worse than it looks. If you don’t stay in this bed I’ll have to tie you to it. That won’t be as fun as you think.”

Laura snorted, wondering if he was serious. He left before she could assess the seriousness of his threat, and for the first time since everything had changed, she was alone with Richard. Luckily, they’d given her a hospital gown and her chest wasn’t out in the open anymore. While it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, she’d rather he never see it again. 

“Gods, Laura, what happened to you? When they told me you were there, I didn’t believe it,” Richard exclaimed, putting a familiar hand on her shoulder. “You look dreadful.”

“Thank you, Richard. So do you.” 

And he really did. Even in the arduous reelection campaign, the hardest thing they’d ever done, she’d never seen him this stressed, this thin and this exhausted. The bags under his eyes had to match hers, but he kept up appearances with the ever-present business suit, and his tie that was never straight. At least, him not knowing how to tie his tie was a constant. She had wondered once if he did it on purpose, just so that she’d step up to him to re-do the knot, and he’d pull her close and make them both forget about that detail. But seeing him now, she could only assume his cluelessness was real. 

“I don’t like the way we left things, Laura.”

“Me neither.”

“So you do agree you were out of line offering talks to the teachers union.”

The look Laura gave him could have cut through glass, and even as tired as she was, she couldn’t let him win. Her head pounded, making it hard to focus, but if she let him see any weakness, he’d pounce on it. He was a political animal, after all; no move was too low. She’d once admired his ambition and willingness to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. But stepping on people’s heads wasn’t the only way to succeed. “No, I don’t. I was being diplomatic, because this is behind us. But I was perfectly within my rights. They would’ve gone back to class. All I promised the overworked, underpaid teachers was that we’d hear them out. That is entirely fair.”

“Let’s talk about it later when you’re back on Colonial One,” he said, devastatingly condescending, which irritated her even more. “When is that going to be?”

“I don’t know. I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future. Then we’ll see.” The prospect of leaving on Colonial One with him didn’t enchant her. 

Richard nodded, casting a glance at her from head to toe. “Now that we have the Arrow of Apollo, we’ll go down to Kobol and open that tomb.”

“Do you think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know, but now that Adama lied, we need to find Earth.”

Laura tilted her head, her attention caught. “What do you mean, he lied?”

“He told everyone he knew where Earth was, then got all high and mighty with me when I suggested we take the scriptures seriously and try to find it.”

_ Well, yes, don’t try to get Bill to do something because the Gods want him to _ . She wasn’t sure Richard had really  _ suggested  _ anyway. That wasn’t like him. She would’ve liked to see them try to work together, though. Must have been something.

“I see.”

Richard’s hand found her arm again, and she tried not to react. “I want you to come with me.”

“I’m not in any state for that.” Gods knew she couldn't deal with another expedition. Not now. “Dr Cottle will have words with you if I try to leave his sickbay.”

“I can handle him,” Richard said confidently, as if the man was the problem, and not the fact that she’d almost died and needed to recover.

Laura forced a smile on her face before she asked her next question. Richard was the only person who could go over Tigh’s head and make him send the Cylon ship back to Caprica, and she was going to make him do it, whatever the cost. Focus had to be on those people. “Can you do something for me, Richard?”

“Of course I can.” The end of the sentence, ‘but will I?’ hung in the air, unsaid, but acknowledged.

“Get Tigh to send our new ship back to Caprica?” she asked. “All of us couldn’t fit on it at once, and they’ll die if we wait.”

Richard didn’t even take the time to think about it, he immediately answered. “If I do, come back to work for me on Colonial One.” 

Laura hadn’t felt too nauseous before, but it was starting to sneak up on her now. She’d expected it though, that he’d bargain; it was just like him. And this was the cost. She hadn’t given any thought to what she would do, what her place in this runaway fleet would be if she ever made it this far. Falling back into her previous role didn’t feel right, especially since she didn’t expect there to be many educational matters to attend to, but it was probably the only possibility. This was her job, after all. But that he’d actually want her back was a surprise, a strong leap from wanting her to step down before he left. She wondered how truly out of his depth he was here.

“Alright.” 

He nodded. “I’ll talk to him. Tigh is even worse than Adama,” he said, clearly annoyed. Yes, she could believe that. 

“I heard Adama was shot,” she tried to be casual about it, couldn’t let him know how much she cared and trigger his consuming jealousy. “Do you know where he is?”

Richard shrugged and vaguely gestured behind him. “They’re keeping him here, waiting until he wakes up. Do you know him?”

“Barely,” she lied, and shamelessly, too.

The curtain had been left open so that Richard’s security detail could watch him, so when Cottle walked past and saw the President was still there, he stopped. “Mr President. You need to let her rest,” he ordered. “Respectfully,” he added, which made Laura want to giggle, but she held it in. He might not be so bad after all.

Richard complied, and when he left her alone, she sighed heavily to let out the familiar tension of having to play his political games.

She tried to resist sleep, but within minutes of being alone again, she fell into slumber. She was awoken only once by a nurse checking up on her who apologised and told her it was to check on her concussion, make sure that she was waking up normally. She barely registered the interaction and was out again.

Sleeping for hours, she dreamed of good things and bad things, of teaching and nuclear disasters. When she woke up for the third time, she pulled herself up to a sitting position to avoid falling back asleep. The headache remained, but thinking didn’t hurt as much, which she was grateful for. She’d refused additional painkillers, something Cottle had also complained about. She reached to the side of the bed where water had been left for her and downed the whole glass, soothing her parched throat. 

When thoughts came back to her brain, she realised she’d wanted to look for Bill before so falling asleep so abruptly. Cottle had said she couldn’t see him, but she got up anyway, wincing as the movement pulled on her new stitches. She ventured out into the rest of sickbay a quieter space than it had been a few hours earlier. It must have been nighttime, or whatever passed for nighttime on this ship in the middle of space.

Like hell, she couldn’t see Bill. She could if she found him. And technically, she wasn’t disobeying the doctor’s orders - she remained in sickbay, just not in her own bed.

And she found him. Or rather, she found guards standing in front of another set of curtains, clearly indicating she’d found what she was looking for. When she reached to walk past them, they stopped her with a casual hand.

“Sorry, ma’am. You can’t be here.”

“I’m not a security risk,” she tried to argue. “I just want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, but no one is allowed in.”

Frak. She needed to see him. She couldn’t be kept out-wouldn’t be kept out. And yes, she appreciated the irony of avoiding to see him the day of the attacks, only to fight to be allowed to see him now. 

“Look, what do I have to-”

“Madam Secretary?”

Laura turned around and could have sobbed with relief at the sight of Lee Adama. If he was coming to see his father, surely, he’d let her in. But for that, she’d have to explain why she wanted to in the first place, which she had no desire to do. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Lee,” she smiled, although unsure if she was still allowed to call him that. Etiquette regarding people one had known when they were five year olds was scarce. He didn’t seem to mind. “I’ve been better. I was hoping to see your father. I don’t know if you remember me, but…” 

“You were my teacher. I remember you. Gave me a gold star I never took off my notebook.”

Laura chuckled and Lee smiled in response. His blue uniform made him appear so serious, but when he smiled, he was that boy again. “You and Zak made quite the pair. He did always have an uncanny ability to get in trouble.”

She saw Lee’s face crumble in real time, and realised something was very wrong. “Zak is…” he frowned, not finishing it.  


Laura’s already aching heart at Bill’s life-threatening situation broke further at the news. She blinked, and in the next second, she had pulled a startled Lee into her arms. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry,” she said, knowing full well that people being sorry didn’t help. Only time, a lot of it, could start to heal the gaping wound. 

“I- thank you.”

She didn’t let him go for a while, and when she did, they both sighed, him from grief and her from exhaustion. She could’ve asked what happened, but it didn’t matter. He must have sensed she needed to sit down, because he turned to the guards and ordered “Let us through.” 

But even he was denied. “Sir, we can’t let her in.”

“On my authority, let us through. You can also wake up Colonel Tigh to ask him whether I can be trusted regarding  _ my father, _ I doubt that’ll go well.” 

To Laura’s surprise, that worked, and they stepped in the private area. Seeing Bill again lying unconscious was so far from anything she’d imagined their reunion would be. She’d imagined that, at worst, he’d give her the same treatment as any other member of the government. She’d imagined the unreadable looks, the clipped tones, but not finding him still, unresponding.

“Do you think he’ll wake up?” she asked quietly, gratefully sitting down on a chair by the bed. If Lee noticed the tremors in her voice, he didn’t comment on them. “What happened?”

“Cottle says he’s resting and he’ll wake up when he’s ready,” Lee replied, conflicting emotions fighting on his face. “How do you know each other?”

“We’re old acquaintances. We met a long time ago.”

Lee narrowed his eyes a second, but he nodded and turned to leave again. 

“You weren’t coming to see him, too?” Laura asked, surprised.

“No, I, um, I was…” he looked to the side awkwardly, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

Laura smiled kindly at him, taking pity in the face of his embarrassment. “Kara is here, isn’t she?” She hadn’t missed their exchange in the hangar deck. There was something between them, but she didn’t know either of them well enough to be able to tell what that was. 

He didn’t reply in the end, just shrugged, sent a glance to the machines monitoring Bill’s state, and left. 

Being alone with Bill, she wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned. The depth of her worry scared her in the same way as the depth of her love had back then, and she wasn’t there to rekindle what she’d once run away from. So silly to worry about what they'd say to each other when he was fighting for his life. It really put things into perspective.

Regardless of their past, when he woke up, she'd be there for him. Hopefully, her presence would be a nice surprise. They could manage some kind of friendship, couldn’t they? In this even crazier world, they wouldn’t be able to afford not getting along.

The hand she eventually took in hers, needing to feel his skin, still had a wedding ring on. She clearly remembered him talking about his just-then finalised divorce fifteen years ago. Had he remarried? And more importantly, why did it matter? 

How long until he woke up? Lee said he would, but he hadn’t sounded so sure about it. Looking at Bill now, the only sign of life was the steady rising and falling of his chest and the reassuring beat of the machine. That was enough. He’d make it. Gods, if he’d just open his eyes. If she could just stare into the depth of them again...

“Oh, Bill,” she whispered, dragging her thumb over the back of his still hand. “You’ll make it through,” she added with more confidence than she felt.

In the next few days, as she recovered, she spent more time by his side, telling stories, unsure whether he could really hear her, stopping only to reassure Cottle on her state, let bandages be changed, and greet the rest of the resistance members who’d finally made it back.

#

_ He was promoted Admiral. He was reading to Laura by a hospital bed, something about a murder in Caprica City. He was by Zak’s side at his wedding. He was taking off his ring and placing it on Laura’s finger. He was watching her across the table as she scolded a ten-year-old Lee. He was blurrily looking down at his daughter Laura had just given birth to. He was staring at a grave with his love’s name on it. He was holding Lee’s child in his arms. He was listening to Saul say he’d been a Cylon all along. He was marrying Laura, a goddess in white.  _

_ And then, finally, he was standing in CIC, with Iris talking his ear off about Kobol, about going down there and reuniting. He was about to see Racetrack and Boomer after their successful mission blowing up that Basestar above Kobol, and wondered how Kara and her own mission were doing, blaming Adar for being so reckless. The two pilots came back, he went to shake their hands, but was only met with shock. Shock. Shock and pain. And the so-called angel wearing Laura’s face watched; watched him be thrown back by the blow and shot a second time.  _

The long journey back to consciousness finally ended when Bill’s eyes fluttered open, more pain reaching his already groggy brain. He couldn’t forget the way those eyes had looked at him as the bullet sliced through his chest. She hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even seemed surprised.

She was there again now, sitting by his bed. Why didn’t she kill him herself if that was what she wanted? He groaned, and those eyes looked up at him. Of course she was here, she could never leave him the frak alone. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear it. This so-called angel could have prevented him getting shot, just like she’d told him about the Olympic Carrier before they knew it was the cause of their troubles, but chose to watch instead. She never had his best interests at heart. While he’d never trusted her, he had come to expect her presence and wondered if any of her words were true at all. She wanted to help him, she said. Only a pretense - she was willing to watch him die, and for what goal?

“Leave me alone,” he said weakly, but with all the conviction he could muster. “Get... get the frak out.”

He closed his eyes then, and only realised she’d been holding his hand when the loss of warmth made his fingers twitch. He heard her leaving, slow footsteps retreating instead of simply disappearing without a sound, but couldn’t think about what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...am sorry... forgive me?


	10. Back to work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Kobol and the Commander waking up, plenty of things have to be dealt with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made my life difficult (I'm sure this is the universe punishing me...) so I hope it makes even the tiniest bit of sense

_ There you go, at least you don’t have to wonder anymore. _

But even repeating that didn’t work, or soothe the wound that Bill’s words had carved into Laura’s chest. He had barely taken one look at her, she hadn’t said a word, and already he’d seen too much of her. This was so unlike the man she’d known, but then, he might have changed. Instead of a soothing balm, time might have been a burning fire for him, anger consuming everything in its wake.

It was fine, she’d leave him alone. She had plenty to get on with anyway. Richard was expecting her back on Colonial One and she’d no doubt have a lot to catch up on. Having no belongings there, once she was cleared to leave sickbay come morning, she simply walked out...

And full-on bumped into someone. She looked up -and how tall was this man, exactly?- into the face of Sam Anders who gave her a smile and steadied her so she wouldn’t be knocked over.

“Laura, everything alright?” he asked. Why did everyone keep asking her that?

“I’m getting out of there before they change their mind and want to keep me,” she joked to explain away how she’d run into him.

Sam laughed. “I see. What are you going to do now?”

“Back to work with the President,” she replied easily.

He winced. “Good luck with that.”

“What about you?”

“Not feeling great.” He gestured to sickbay behind her.  _ Yeah, me neither. _

Cottle’s theory on why she was so tired -apart from the obvious injuries- had something to do with radiation and Caprica. Even though they’d been on anti-radiation injections, prolonged exposition wasn’t good. Now that they were out, what they needed, what she needed, was rest. But rest, she could do away from sickbay, off the ship Bill wanted her to get the frak out of, back on Colonial One. 

She nodded in understanding. “I hope you feel better. I’ll be on Colonial One, if you need anything.”

“Things are gonna be different out here, aren’t they?” His smile was slightly apprehensive, and she could relate.

“It will take time to adjust fully. This is still about survival, we’re still fighting, but this time there’s a lot more of us. And who knows, maybe you can start a Pyramid tournament.”

“And finally get you to play?” he asked hopefully. Did he really want her to humiliate herself? Because that’s what would happen if she played. No, she’d leave that to the younger ones. 

They parted, and Laura was on her way to Colonial One again. 

The ship hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been on it. It still looked every bit the multi-purpose, luxury presidential ship she’d boarded many times; so much, in fac, that she’d even had a dedicated bedroom for those long trips, one that Richard told her was still hers now. “But I don’t expect you’ll spend a lot of nights in your own bed anyway,” he’d said, making her question the decision of agreeing to live on his ship. But his innuendos wouldn’t change anything.

He hadn’t lied about it being there for her, and when she finally walked into the rather large room on that rather large ship, it dawned on her that she’d be spending all her nights there for the foreseeable future, that this was ‘home’. It wasn’t home, merely accommodation. And she could do a lot worse. There was a nice bed, a closet in which she’d kept some clothes to be able to change between events, and a little bathroom off to one side. After the living conditions on Caprica, this was like being treated to the best hotel, the ones Richard always boasted about visiting.

She planned to meet the President, but allowed herself the luxury of a nice, relaxing shower first. Washing up in sickbay the last few days hadn’t been the most comfortable of affairs, but now, as she stood under the hot spray, she washed away the very last remnants of life on the nuked planet and began to unwind. 

Unwinding required to stop thinking about Bill being shot and finally waking up, which she struggled to do, but forced her brain to try. The resolution she’d taken before he woke up and kicked her out still stood; they’d have to see each other again sooner or later, and she refused to hide out on Colonial One. She had more pride than that. When he was out of sickbay, they could talk about it again, or at least attempt to.

There were only business suits in her closet, which made sense since this ship had transported her to work events, but she found herself missing warm sweaters and casual dresses -she doubted she’d have any use for the formal black dress hanging in the back of the dresser, worn only once at one of Richard’s fundraising events on Picon. For now, she picked one of the pantsuits and set out to Richard’s office.

#

Gaius Baltar sat in the President’s office, across the desk from him, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you want to take her is all. There are many people who’d go down to Kobol. Many, many people. After what she’s done to you, Richard, really,” he tried to explain after the blonde beside him had murmured how much of a danger to his life the return of the Secretary of Education was. 

Richard played with a pen, making it roll around his hand as he listened to his friend’s concerns. “There’s something you still need to understand about politics, Gaius. You have to keep everyone close. Especially the ones you’ve screwed over.”

“She went behind your back.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Is she such a good frak that you’ll forgive her that?”

“She is,” Laura intervened, picking a perfect moment to make herself known and walk into the imposing room. “Not that it would matter, even  _ if  _ there was anything to forgive.” 

“Madam Secretary,” Baltar fumbled as he tried to come up with his next words. Of the three Caprican, he was the one with the strongest accent. He straightened up, clearing his throat. “I… I didn’t mean anything by it. You know I have the utmost-”

“Of course you didn’t,” she replied with her most neutral smile, but with just a hint of danger to it. “Dr Baltar, nice to meet you again.”

She could almost see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to remember when they would’ve met. They were very aware of each other, both public figures close to the President, yet had only really met once at Caprica City Symposium the previous year. Once was enough. He may be a genius, but he didn’t seem to be able to hold a single sincere conversation, instead choosing to navigate discussions like an uncomfortable eel.

“Could I speak to the President, please?” she asked coolly, looking at him until he sprang up from his chair.

Richard nodded at him. “We’ll meet later before we leave,” he said, then turned to Laura again when Baltar left. “Laura,” he smiled, his tone sweet. “I’m happy to see you’re back. How was the holiday?”

“Spent in bed,” she replied, but seeing the knowing look he gave her, she clarified, “recovering.” Even now, she was in no shape to go back to work, but that had never stopped her before. 

“Anyway, you’ll have plenty of time to get used to the routine here, but we’re going to leave for Kobol soon.” 

Laura took it upon herself to take a seat since he hadn’t offered, but then he never did. “Didn’t I tell you I couldn’t go down with you? That will ease Dr Baltar’s… worries. But why is the President going? That doesn’t seem safe.”

“I should be the one to find Earth,” Adar said decidedly. Ah, so he just didn’t want finding Earth to be someone else’s accomplishment. She should’ve thought of that; it was typical of him. “But considering what the scriptures say about Kobol, I only want to surround myself with people that I…” he paused, studying her. “trust.”

As if he trusted her. But the message was clear. “Are you dying, Richard?” she asked next, most casually.

He didn’t seem surprised by the abrupt question. “Not that I know of.”

"Then who is it?" 

"Adama got close. Maybe that's just it." 

The image of Bill lying unconscious on the sickbay bed imposes itself in her mind, and Laura did her best not to wince. But no, he wasn't dying. He'd woken up, he wasn't dying. Richard was right that out of the two leaders, though, he’d been the closest to the Shore. But it didn’t add up. He’d been shot, not taken down by a disease.

“He woke up, by the way,” Richard continued, thankfully oblivious to her anguish.

Laura gave a tight smile. She was aware of that. “Great.”

“We better go before he decides to join.”

Bill wouldn't ever set foot on the planet of the Gods to follow a myth, no. But she wouldn’t ease Richard’s concerns.

#

Even more so than being shot, recovery was a pain. No, that wasn’t true. Not worse than being shot, but still damn frustrating. There had been silence since he’d woken up, which was slightly unnerving. Even with the usual noise of sickbay, it was the silence that had struck him. As soon as he possibly could, he’d forced Cottle to let him out and get back to his quarters, to his command. The silence, he’d realised after a while, all of a sudden, was the absence of Iris speaking nonsense. He vaguely remembered telling her to leave, although why she had listened now and not before was a mystery. In any case, it wouldn’t last long. If her goal had been to see him dead, she had failed. 

“Ships still reporting protests,” Saul said, reporting on the state of the fleet. Bill was going back into command -none of Cottle’s threats changed anything to that decision- and therefore needed to be briefed on everything he’d missed. “Repairs on Cloud Nine are finished. We gained about sixty civvies.” 

Not that he hadn’t been paying attention before, but this made Bill look at his XO with curiosity. “What? How?” It wasn’t like they could just find new humans around the corner. Lately, the only new one had been born, not found. 

“Starbuck came back from Caprica with that arrow and what she called a ‘resistance’ movement. Came back with one of those frakking skinjobs, too. Wanted me to send it back, can you believe it?”

Bill nodded slowly - he could believe it, but more than that, the feeling that Kara was back calmed his unease and soothed his mind. He’d hated sending her back to Caprica, although that wasn’t so different from having her hop into her viper every time the Cylons showed up. 

“So they didn’t go back?” he asked for clarification, unsure what Saul was saying exactly. “Do we have a Cylon heavy raider with us?”

“Oh no, they went back,” Saul grumbled unhappily. He looked carefully around him -they were safely tucked away in Bill’s quarters with no chance of eavesdroppers, but still- before muttering the next part, “President got all up in my face about it.”

“What the frak is his business in that? A Cylon ship is a tactical weapon. He has no interest in that.” 

Saul nodded, knowing that his reaction would have been Bill’s as well had he been awake. “He was convinced.”

Bill wanted to laugh, but Saul looked serious. No one coerced Adar; that frakking moron did whatever he wanted. “How? I need to use that trick in the future.”

But then Saul shook his head, realising he shouldn’t have broached the subject, which, of course, found Bill wanting to dig even more. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “We have the Cylon in the brig now.”

“Colonel, tell me how the President changed his mind,” Bill ordered, not falling for his friend’s distraction techniques. Judging by the look on Saul’s face, it was something he disliked. 

“She was in the group that arrived. He listens to her. Roslin.” 

Bill frowned, his face hardening as it had learned to do when people mentioned Laura. “Is this a joke?” 

His oldest friend should know better than to joke about that. Even though they hadn’t known each other at first, by the second time they were good friends, and Saul had heard all about his attempt to see Laura again, and how that had ended. He’d been a fool, going to that hotel where he knew she was staying, provoking a chance meeting and hoping to reconnect. But hearing the pitiful story, Saul hadn’t judged so much as refilled his glass. 

“It would be a frakking bad one.”

“She’s really here? How?” 

Frak. Cottle had told him to avoid getting upset, but there was nothing he could do to tame his racing heart now; not if Laura had beaten the odds, not if she was back. But he’d got over her these last fifteen years, accepted that she’d never really wanted a relationship with him. Relationships came together and then came undone all the time. Hell, his own marriage was a prime example of that. But maybe if she was here, she could tell him why she’d avoided the decommissioning ceremony, why she’d thought that at their age they couldn’t act like adults around each other. 

“No idea. I didn’t have a tea party with her,” Saul shrugged. “Don’t let her get under your skin this time.” 

“I won’t.”

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if Iris leaving had anything to do with Laura being back. He was this close to considering this was Laura’s spirit when he pulled himself out of that line of thought. Those things didn’t exist. But then, neither did angels. “You said we were still above Kobol, what are we waiting for?”

“The President is down on the planet. He’s following the path to the tomb of...Artemis.”

“Athena. Adar went down?”

“Surprised me too. Now we have to wait until they’re back and pray the Cylons don’t come back before that. Or we leave them here. Him, her, Baltar and Starbuck. Imagine all the trouble we’d spare ourselves.”

“Saul.”

“Just a thought.”

A knock on the hatch interrupted their conversation and Lee walked in. Seeing him now, Bill couldn’t erase the memory of Lee’s face when he got shot in the middle of CIC, the look of horror, of panic. He wasn’t sure the reaction would have been the same a few weeks ago when all his son had was an unlimited supply of spiteful words.

Lee stayed standing in the middle of the cabin and both men sitting at the table looked at him. 

“Am I interrupting?” Lee asked.

Bill took a sip of his water before replying. “Yes, but now that you’re here, go ahead.”

“Potential time-sensitive intel. The one in the brig… she told Helo the Cylons would be back over Kobol tomorrow and we had better leaving.”

The one in the brig. Sharon. A frakking Cylon. Bill took a moment to process the information, especially since the thought of Sharon, of that machine, brought a wave of fury, a deep feeling of betrayal through his entire body. She’d tried to kill him once and he had half a mind to go down to the brig and wrap his hands around her throat. This could very much be a trap. “And you believe it?” 

“I don’t know. She heard it when she was piloting the raider. In the data stream.”

“Do we have a way of communicating with the President down on the planet?”

Lee shook his head. “No way to contact them. There’s no way to tell how long their excursion will take. We can send a team. At worst, we’re rushed for nothing. At best, this saves our lives.”

Saul did say Laura was down there too, which was a more compelling point than rescuing Adar and the resident weirdo. They’d need to talk, and this time without her running down to another planet. Twice was enough of that tactic.

“Send a team down,” he decided. This expedition was a waste of time anyway, which he had told the President beforehand.

“Bill, you’re not serious,” Saul protested. “That thing’s frakking with you. I should’ve had it killed.”

“She probably is.” He at least had to agree with that. But if the Cylons did come back and they had to jump away, leaving their people on the surface of Kobol, he’d never be able to forgive himself. “We’re doing this.”

Lee turned to leave, but then he hesitated. “Did you…” he trailed off, unsure whether his question was going to be met with a brusque remark that this was none of his business. “Nevermind.”

Bill held back a groan at his son’s hesitation, but barely. “Speak your mind.”

“Did you manage to see Secretary Roslin before she left?”

“Was I supposed to?” Bill asked back, his tone a little too hard.

Lee instantly seemed to regret meddling. Good. “She spent so much time waiting for you to wake up, I thought you might have.”

She waited for him to wake up. For the sake of the Gods, why hadn’t she stayed afterwards? 

Or maybe she had. Maybe he’d woken up to the warmth of her hand holding his, and he’d chased her away. How could he ever think that the angel who didn’t care whether he lived or died would be by the side of his bed, waiting, drawing patterns over the back of his hand?

He ran a hand over his face, sighing tiredly. “What did she say to you?”

“That you were old acquaintances,” Lee replied.  _ Acquaintances _ . Right. But Bill was grateful Laura hadn’t told him about the woman that had come before his mother. He always got touchy around the subject. “She kicked up a fuss with the guards. I remember how intimidating she could be.”

“You  _ remember _ ?”

“Ah, yes, but you don’t,” Lee said in that tone that usually announced the usual reproaches. “You barely touched foot on the planet that year. And the next. And the next. We had her as a teacher.”

That had slipped Bill’s mind, but now he remembered choking on his coffee when Carolanne had mentioned the name of Lee’s new teacher. He hadn’t handled the news well, still bitter and angry, and had stayed as far away from that school as humanly possible, for all of their sakes.

He didn’t reply in the end, because there was nothing to say, nothing that Lee wanted to hear anyway. He couldn’t fix the past; no one could. Lee got tired of waiting for an answer and turned to leave again, pinching his lips. When he was almost out of the cabin, Bill’s voice stopped him.

“Lee?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll join the mission.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going down to Kobol after a double surgery is absolutely unrealistic, but if the show can do it, so can I!


	11. Back to each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion, Kobol-style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, someone dies in this chapter as you may have guessed since this is Kobol (should I add character death to the fic warnings/tags?) 
> 
> Yes, I used a line I like from X-Men First Class ;)
> 
> Speaking of, as a PSA, I might change my username so don't be surprised ahah this joke from 2015 is starting to get old
> 
> And last, but not least, reunioooooon! (I didn't think this would take eleven chapters I am deeply sorry hahah)

It never stopped raining on that planet. Despite the raincoats, the chill seeped through clothes, flesh and bones, leaving everyone cold and shivering. They were not a small group, either, the President having insisted for a lot of his security to join them. Although he loathed to admit it, Zeus’s warning scared him. He refused to die down there. They had been walking for hours already, trying to make some sense of the instructions in the scriptures. Adar had ordered for his resident priestess, Elosha, to join them, but even she seemed slightly disbelieving of the whole endeavour. 

“And the blaze pursued them, and the people of Kobol had a choice. To board the great ship, or take the high road through the rocky ridge," she read as they stood near a clearing.

They walked again.

Laura had borrowed clothes from one of Richard’s staff who thankfully wasn’t too far in size but that didn’t stop the experience from being uncomfortable, wet and muddy. When the rain took a break and the sun peeked through the clouds, the mood instantly improved. Laura caught up with Richard to continue their earlier conversation. She had been floored to hear about some of the things that had happened in the fleet, including freedom for the terrorist Tom Zarek. Now it prompted her to ask another question.

“So how many people do we have, exactly?” 

Richard was grumpier than usual down there, not usually one to get dirty and struggling to keep his air of superiority when he was slipping in the mud. “I’m not going to personally count each and every one of them,” he snapped in response, but she wasn’t intimidated.

“That’s not what I asked you. If this is the last of humanity, it needs to be protected.”

“Protected? They took this opportunity to rebel, go after each other, go after the government. It’s like all they want is anarchy.”

“Opportunity, Richard? I wouldn’t call the complete destruction of our home planets an opportunity for anything. You have to adapt. See what they want. Reinstate the Quorum.”

“No,” he said firmly. “This is only a trip to a new planet, there’s no use changing everything.”

They went through a narrow path where only one at a time could go through, and the discussion stopped. It hadn’t really been a discussion anyway, he was too set in his ways to listen. She’d have to try again once they were back on Colonial One and he couldn’t escape her. 

Stopping for the night after even more walking was a popular decision, and they made some sort of camp just off the path. What they’d brought as food supplies reminded Laura of life on Caprica and therefore had her stomach in knots. And that wasn’t all, walking and climbing so much kept pulling on her wounds, which didn’t help push away the queasy feeling. But she was going to see this through, and then go back to Colonial One and fight with Richard on some urgent measures. He wouldn’t like it, but he was the one who asked her to come back, so that would teach him. 

“Madam Secretary, sitting all alone,” Kara said as she came towards Laura. “Don’t wanna be with the cool kids?”

“If you sit with me, we’ll be the cool kids,” Laura said with a grin at the younger woman. “Please keep calling me Laura.”

“With pleasure.” She sat down, the overhead tarp sheltering them from the rain. The only reason she had joined the mission was because she’d been the one to retrieve the damn arrow and wanted to see it through, but Laura was grateful for her presence anyway, a friendly face in the crowd. 

“Do you believe in the Gods?”

The question seemed to surprise Kara, but she eventually nodded. “I do, yes.”

“And Earth?”

“The scriptures say the Thirteenth Tribe landed on Earth. We have to get somewhere the frakking toasters won’t find us, somewhere-” Kara stopped abruptly, reaching for the gun at her side. “Stay there,” she whispered as she quietly stood up.

She gestured to the President’s guards to get ready as leaves rustled to their right. It hadn’t been hard for her to take the lead of the group. Out of the darkness of the trees, face lit up only by the small portable lamp they’d brought, came a very familiar figure. His eyes instantly found Laura, but she couldn’t handle it, stared at his chest instead. 

Adar jumped to his feet at the sight of the military leader and glared openly at him. “Commander. This is a surprise.”

“Mr President. I hope you don’t mind the addition,” Bill greeted, forcing his eyes away from Laura. It wouldn’t do to disrespect the President by looking away from him. 

“Why exactly are you here, Commander?”

“We have received word the Cylons will be back over Kobol tomorrow. We need to move fast.”

“Will we be there by then?” Adar asked Elosha who still clutched the book.

“There’s no telling. We’re following clues left by an oracle three thousand years ago. It’s not terribly precise,” she replied.

“Thank you for the message, Commander. We’ll see this through here,” Adar decided, his dismissive tone not lost on anyone. 

Laura stood up and slowly walked closer to the confrontation. A muscle twitched in Bill’s jaw after hearing Adar’s dismissal, and Laura saw how tight a grip he had on himself to still be able to reply calmly. “I don’t think you understand, Mr President. If they come back, we’re as good as dead.”

“I understand. But we haven’t come all this way for nothing. We’ll go back after opening the tomb of Athena, and not a second before.”

The President and the Commander stared each other down, and this was as ridiculous as Laura had imagined it would be. The young Bill she’d known would have mouthed off, argued until he was red in the face, but now, he was simply letting his silent disapproval fill the space between them. 

She decided to break the tension. Things were bound to be awkward anyway, so might as well break the ice. She cleared her throat, and immediately attracted Bill’s attention back to her. Instantly forgetting what she wanted to say, she gave him a practiced smile. “Commander. Rain is starting again. You should take cover.”

“Madam Secretary,” he said, pausing. This time, she met his eyes. 

And this was exactly why she'd avoided the ceremony. His eyes could always dive into hers and find her deepest secrets. She could stare into his and find the answer. To life, to love, to everything. 

This wasn’t good. Couldn’t be good. He’d said he didn’t want to see her. But Gods, he was here and he was alive and he was looking at her so intensely, as if comparing every detail to his memory. He really had to make up his mind. 

Bill broke the link and looked to the President who reluctantly agreed to have him and his party, among which Laura recognised Lee, joining them. They spread throughout their camp, joining the people already there. Richard had decided on a particular set up, with him in the middle -and Baltar of course, who never left his side, like a puppy that would otherwise be lost without his owner-president - and his guards forming a circle around them. Laura had chosen to sit outside of that. She’d rather be out of the circle of madness, potentially in more danger than sleeping next to Richard. 

She rejoined her earlier spot, and found Bill following her. Kara took one look at the two of them and left, finding Lee on the other side. She was too observant for her own good. Bill sat down with a groan and a hand to his chest, and Laura took in a sharp breath. 

“Are you alright?” she immediately asked, clenching her hand into a fist when it desperately wanted to reach out to him. She handed him a flask of water instead, which he accepted.

“I’m fine. Not exactly fit for exercise.”

Laura shook her head, even as she’d done the same thing. “Then why did you come? You could have let Lee or someone else handle it.” 

_ For you _ . He looked at her for a few seconds before speaking, but not answering her question. “Lee told me what you did. Thank you.” 

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” she replied, both because it was partly true, and because she wanted to hear him explain away his, frankly, rude behaviour. 

“I’m sorry, for what I said,” he said while sounding slightly unsure, which baffled Laura. It was as if he wasn’t actually sure he’d spoken the words. She nodded to show she knew what he was talking about, and the lines on his forehead eased a little. “I didn’t expect to see you there, and I’m sorry. I had dreams- it doesn’t matter. I hope we can move forward.”

“I forgive you, Bill.”

The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s not worse than what I did to you, is it?”

The smile disappeared from Bill’s face, and Laura chided herself for bringing it up and souring the mood. But then, the mood had already been tense before. “In the past now,” he mumbled. 

“Is it?”

“Yes.” They were silent for a moment, letting each other’s presence soothe frayed nerves, and then Bill’s voice rose again, warmer now. “It’s good to see you, Laura.”

She gave him a genuine smile, forgetting about everything else for a moment. “You too, Bill.”

#

Sleeping on the ground was the worst idea and he’d feel it in his back for days, but as Bill opened his eyes and saw Laura asleep next to him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Seeing her now, getting confused was impossible anymore. Iris might have had her physical appearance, but she could never replicate this glow to Laura’s face, the halo around her, the way she lit up the room, made every shade of every colour more vibrant. They’d somehow gravitated towards each other’s warmth during the night as the temperature dropped even lower, inhibitions removed in the depths of unconsciousness.

What was that thing again about being over her? 

Bill sat up slowly, as delicately as he could to let Laura sleep. There was no telling what her reaction would be if she found how they’d been pulled together, but they couldn’t get too close or she’d shut everything out again. Kara and Lee were on guard, watching for any danger as the rest of the group was touched by the first light of the day. And of course they hadn’t missed anything. 

Lee was caught between curiosity and embarrassment while Kara had a smug grin firmly set on her lips, and it didn’t look like it’d leave anytime soon. So much for discretion. He glared at Kara for good measure, but she wasn’t deterred. It was high time they left anyway, so he cleared his throat loudly. It did the trick, because sleep was light when they slept outside anyway. 

Laura, first thing in the morning, had always been the most adorable sight. She would look at him with her eyes still heavy with sleep, brain not fully waking up until she had a cup of coffee. But that must have been something that changed with time, because she sat up almost immediately, running a hand through her hair to put it in place. She blinked up at him and gave a soft smile.

“No coffee, I’m sorry,” he told her, and she surprised him with the sweetness of her laugh.

The sound was like the bliss of finally hearing a favourite song, a tune that had been stuck in one’s head for years, unable to be found again until that precise moment. It also finished pulling everyone to their feet, and they had to turn their minds back to the mission.

Bill tried one more time to get Adar to agree to go back to Galactica as soon as possible, the Cylon warning on his mind, but the President wouldn’t budge. So after getting some quick, light breakfast, they set out for that tomb again. 

The whole way, the President and his pet scientist maintained conversation near the top of the line, Starbuck and Apollo bickered at the back, and Bill was grateful for the security around Adar, so he could fall back a little and talk to Laura. The looks Adar had been giving her when they were almost side by side had played with Bill’s patience. He'd heard the gossip in passing, the rumours of some extramarital relationship the President would be having. Laura could be with whoever she wanted, and above all, could hold her own, but the way the most powerful man of the Colonies was looking at her made Bill's protective instincts soar. If anyone could protect herself, it was Laura, but he'd just have to watch the situation progress and try his hardest not to punch the President in the teeth, however pleasant that might be.

What if it had been Laura at the ceremony instead of Adar? She'd be President by now. He doubted Adar would've survived on Caprica like she did. He didn't have the determination. 

Bill turned to Laura now at his side, and found her eyes were already on him. She wasn’t regarding him in the same way she had last night, warily, prudently, as if worried about his reaction. When he'd started apologising, he'd hoped it had really been her he’d spoken harshly to and she wouldn’t think him crazy. The subtle way she'd relaxed and the nod had told him he was right, and she seemed to have accepted his apology, thank the Go- no, the Gods had nothing to do with that- thank Laura. 

"How did you survive on Caprica?" He asked. 

"I thought you'd ask that," Laura said, having to break eye contact to look in front of her as the ground was paved with stones and tree roots sticking out. "I found other people, that's what saved me."

"Colonel Tigh told me you insisted on bringing everybody on board at the risk of the fleet’s safety."

"Yes, I'm sure he has no fondness for me now." She smirked slightly, unrepentant. 

"He never did," Bill said in his own amused tone. 

Laura snorted at his unashamed confession. "That's flattering, thank you. We all had to get out of there. It was only a matter of time before we were wiped out. We lost people constantly, it was..." she stopped, thinking better of sharing more about the experience. 

"We're at war," he commented.

"I'm not sure that's what the Cylons think. The term war implies that both sides stand an equal chance of winning. We hardly have that." 

Bill could still recall the dream of Laura telling him the war was lost the night before the attacks happened. It had been so strange, unexplainable, and honestly, a little scary. But not any weirder than all the dreams he'd had since then, and all those he vaguely remembered during his coma. Many of them involved Laura, but not all of them. The one image that still played in his mind was Lee's wide smile as he handed him a tiny baby to hold, his son. A grandson. Damn, he really was a crazy old man. 

"I suppose we better start making babies," he mumbled, and Laura graced him with a startled laugh. 

"To save the human race?" 

“We all have to make sacrifices.”

The group stopped and Adar turned around to address everyone. “We’ll take the harder path up the mountain. That will be more straightforward. Will that satisfy you, Commander?”

“The Commander might not feel up for that. I’m sure we’d find you on the way back if you wished to stay here,” Baltar added, the slimy bastard.

Bill knew it wouldn’t change a damn thing on their journey, but it sure as hell would be more difficult to those in recovery. But he didn’t have an option to say no, wouldn’t give that prick the pleasure of seeing him weak. He could, however, go as far as possible on the other side, make everyone realise how ridiculous his suggestion was. “You’re too considerate, Mr President, as always.” 

Adar sent him a magnanimous smile and started again, walking behind a guard and Baltar, and followed by the priestess he insisted on keeping close to him. Bill glanced at Laura who didn’t comment. She looked somewhat out of breath though, as did he. And had she ever been this pale? Or maybe her hair was a shade darker than he remembered. 

"Do you really believe in this?" He asked her, knowing she could read between the lines.  _ Do you really believe in him? _

"He’s changed. I think he's mistaken," she replied, quieter than before, to answer both of his questions. His gaze warned a little. "Things don't add up. Somehow, somewhere, there's something we're missing." 

"About Earth?"

They had to walk in single file then, so he didn’t get to see the look on her face when she asked, "Since when do you believe in Earth?"

"I never did. Earth is a myth." 

A minute later, as they were making their ascend, Bill stopped so abruptly that Laura almost hit him in her hurry to halt her steps. Those in front kept walking, but Iris had appeared out of nowhere right in front of him, and he’d almost crashed into her. As always, she knew exactly what she’d done and enjoyed the effect. But he’d been right, Laura did look paler now than his past memory of her. 

“What the frak are you doing here?” he hissed, hopefully low enough that no one else heard.

Iris didn’t have any interest in talking, however, and only smiled enigmatically. He should’ve known she’d be back. He  _ had  _ known she would. But this time, she stayed silent. 

“Bill? Are you okay?” Laura asked behind him. “Why did you stop?”

He tried to go past Iris but she held him back with a hand splayed across his chest. She was surprisingly strong - not  _ surprisingly _ ; he still remembered her stopping one of his punches with one palm at the very beginning. He had a bad feeling about this; the same gut feeling he’d learned to know over the years. Danger. 

“Wait!” he shouted as loud as he could to be heard through the front of the line. Adar paused and turned around, intrigued by the sense of urgency in Bill’s voice while Baltar and a guard continued. 

In a second, the ground exploded under them, and the resulting blowing wind knocked the back end of the group off their feet.

Being thrown to the ground disoriented Bill for a second but he got back up, offering his hand to Laura who was rubbing her elbow, eyes wide and confused. Iris had gone again.

“What the hell was that?” Lee exclaimed, drawing his weapon, but there didn’t seem to be any additional threat. Bill’s head turned to him so fast it also made him lose balance, but his son and Kara were alright. The explosion had barely reached them so they were alert and ready. “We need to get out of here. Don’t exert yourselves. We’ll check on the others.”  _ And bring back who we can _ .

Lee, Kara and the three guards that had been at the back quickly climbed up there and tried to assess the damage. Laura shuddered as she looked at the mass of bodies lying on the ground slightly higher up the hill and Bill rested a hand on her back to offer some comfort. She was also clutching her side, and he had to ask.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Bullet on Caprica,” she said.

“And you came down here with a bullet wound?”

Laura raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, communicating exactly what she thought even before she spoke. “Really, Bill? You had two surgeries. I don’t see you resting in bed.”

Point taken, he nodded. 

They saw people slowly standing up in the path ahead. Although he’d initially wanted to tell Lee he wasn’t too old he had to stay behind, now, as Kara, Lee and the guards supported Elosha, Adar and two other injured guards, he could only be glad he had left the rescue operations to the younger soldiers. Besides, he was content to stay with Laura. 

“It looks like a landmine exploded,” Lee told them as he and Kara dropped the President’s body on the floor. “We haven’t encountered those here before. We have to be extra careful where we’re putting our feet.”

Laura kept looking at Adar’s body, blood running down his temple, and she was sure she was about to be sick. “Is he…?”

“He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing,” Kara reported. “We’ll have to carry him.”

It would be so easy to leave him here, pretend he’d died on Kobol. But no matter Bill’s opinion of him, this was the President of the Colonies, and he’d taken an oath. They all would. 

“This was predictable,” Elosha said, voice trembling slightly as she wiped blood off her cheek. She was leaning against a guard, not quite stable. While she’d been right behind Adar, and somewhat close to the blast, his body had acted as a sort of shield. “Zeus warned the twelve tribes.”

Bill scanned everyone present, Laura, shaken but alright, Lee, Kara, Elosha and six members of the President’s security team. “Where’s Baltar?” he asked.

“He’s- you don’t want to see it, sir,” one of the guards frowned, his face taking a sickly colour.

“If there are any Cylons left on this planet, they’ll be on us soon,” Kara reminded them. 

And if Sharon had been right, Cylons would also appear in the sky soon. With the President unable to command, Bill was free to make the right decision for everyone’s safety, the one he’d come down to the planet to make. Abandon the religious quest and get the hell out. 

“Retreat. We’re going back to the ship,” he ordered.

Kara reacted vehemently. “What?” she exclaimed. “We came all this way.”

“Who says we would even find that tomb?” Bill asked her. “Aren’t we lost, Elosha?”

“Instructions in the scriptures are hardly clear. We’d need a guide, ideally,” the priestess replied, eyes regaining clarity and focus with every passing minute.

“You want to run away on the word of a  _ Cylon _ ,” Kara protested again, pushing her luck. “A Cylon!”

“What if she’s right? You’d risk all of us on that assumption?”

Elosha pondered Kara’s sentence and spoke again. “The scriptures do speak of a lower demon who helped the people in a time of crisis.”

Bill turned to Laura who hadn’t taken part in the conversation. “Madam Secretary?” In the absence of the President, Laura was technically the highest-ranking government official. 

“I think leaving is wise,” Laura said quietly.

This time, Kara lost it. “I didn’t go back to Caprica to get the frakking arrow for nothing!”

Bill glanced at Laura.  _ She brought you back. _ To him, that made anything worth it. “Stand down, Lieutenant, I’ve made my decision, and we’re leaving,” he said sharply, and Kara knew he wouldn’t stand any further arguments.

“Yes, sir.” She clenched her jaw so hard it was a wonder it didn’t break.

So they left the way they came, going down the path to the raptor Bill’s team had taken down. There wasn’t any time to go back to the President’s shuttle, especially as walking was slower now, between the injured and the unconscious President. This time, conversation was scarce. They made it to the raptor beneath three hours and immediately took off.

Right as they reached the upper atmosphere, two Cylon Basestars jumped in orbit.

“Frak,” Bill muttered under his breath. He’d taken to piloting the raptor, so had a first row seat when the Cylons appeared. 

As he pulled the raptor to its maximum speed, they watched the Fleet jump away, one ship at a time. Basestars launched raiders, and as they were met with Galactica’s CAP, Lee and Kara cursed everything and everyone that they’d be stuck there and not helping out with defence.

None of them should have come down to that frakking planet, but especially not at the same time. At least they were close enough for voice contact, and Bill got constant contact with his XO as they hurried to rejoin the ship. Trying not to get shot down by a Cylon hit was a nightmare, especially in a raptor that was a lot less manoeuvrable than a viper.

As always seemed to be the case, they made it at the last second, at the very last moment they could still jump away and still have a ship afterwards, albeit a damaged one.

As the raptor stood safely in the hangar deck after a rough landing, Bill leaned his head back in the pilot’s seat and closed his eyes a second, the adrenaline rush making him dizzy and causing his heart to thump hard and fast. Laura moved through the cabin to come next to him and lay a hand on his arm, prompting his eyes to open again.

“You took us back to safety. We’re fine,” she said gently. “Come on, I’m sure there’s plenty to do. Your ship’s going to need you.”

They both exited the raptor, and as Laura joined those going to sickbay to have information on the state of the President, Bill and strode over to CIC. The day was far from over. 


	12. Presidential duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secretary Roslin takes on additional responsibilities while the President recovers

“I told you she’d be back.” 

Bill almost sliced his own throat shaving at the sudden sound of someone’s voice behind him. She really chose her moments perfectly. 

“So what, you expect me to thank you?” he asked, seeing Iris in the mirror behind him. 

“That would be nice, yes,” she said with a sufficient grin. “You two are so cute I almost can’t handle it.”

Bill’s patience for her antics had long been drained, and he returned his attention to the razor in his hand. “When you’re done taking our lives for your personal playground, let me know.”

“I saved your life on Kobol,” Iris countered. After letting him almost die, yes, so did that really count? “Some things could have been avoided if you’d believed me,” she continued, but received no answer. Bill washed his face, dried it with a towel and walked past her to get dressed. “For frak’s sake, Bill. You were shot. It had to happen. Let it go.”

“I’m not playing,” he simply told her before leaving.

He had enough to worry about without having to deal with her. At least, her presence this morning stopped him from grabbing the phone and calling Laura to make sure she’d made it back alright. Not knowing where they stood, it might have been too much. Seeing Laura again had been a blessing, but if she was going to assume presidential duties while Adar recovered, they would have to draw the line somewhere.

#

Laura was more than happy to have a room on Colonial One with an actual bed. After Caprica, sickbay and then Kobol, she felt like she could sleep for three years. Space was cold though, and she buried herself under extra blankets all night, somehow feeling colder on the ship than down on rainy Kobol. Maybe it had to do with the company she’d kept.

No matter how exhausted, she woke up early and got ready, unsure what today would bring. The President was incapacitated for Gods knew how long, and from what she’d been able to gather, the fleet was filled with discontent. People rebelled, protested, stole, and some sort of mafia had started to grow. At the very least, this gave her the first order of business: get acquainted with the situation. 

There was a spare office right next to the President’s meant for the Vice President in case they travelled together, which was where Laura decided to get settled. At least for today. As she made her way down the corridor, she was met with a familiar figure, and a smile split her face.

Billy. Oh, thank the Lords. 

“Billy!” Laura looked at the young man before her and quickly pulled him into a hug. “Oh my gods, you’re here. How are you?” 

“Hi, uh- yes, you asked me to go to the decommissioning ceremony in your place, and here I am,” Billy said. “I’m fine; I’ve been working for the President. I’m glad you're back, though.”

“I’m so happy to see you, Billy.” She smiled widely, studying him. Just like everyone, he seemed to have aged a few years since she’d last seen him. “But what about that report on the ceremony, I was expecting it on my desk weeks ago.”

Billy chuckled and Laura laughed with him. “I’m sorry, Madam Secretary. We got a little busy.”

He looked like he’d seen some things, working with Richard, which she could completely believe. He’d only been working with her for two weeks before the attacks, after all, so this was already a lot more experience than life on the Capitol building. 

“Let’s sit down and you can tell me everything that happened.”

She’d been looking for a way to be updated on everything in the fleet, and Billy would be perfect at that. They sat down in the VP’s office and Laura learned about every event that Billy recalled, from the water crisis to Tom Zarek gaining control of a ship, to protests all over the fleet. 

“Going down to Kobol with the Arrow of Apollo is President Adar’s first popular move with the people. But still, not with everyone. What did you find down there?” Billy asked.

“Nothing. The directions weren’t so clear, and we didn’t have the time to explore. If we hadn’t got out when we did, we’d all be dead.” 

Billy nodded gravely. “How is President Adar?”

“The doctor says he should make a full recovery. But he might not be back for a couple of days.”

“I’ve been bringing the President’s schedule every morning, but I’m not sure what to do with it today. WIll you be taking over?”

Laura glanced over to the wall that separated this office from the President’s. “I don’t have a right to make these kinds of decisions.”

“Then who does?”

“I don’t know, Billy. The fact is that there should be a Vice President, or the Quorum, or anyone previously designated to assume Presidential duties.”

Billy nodded, but pressed on anyway. “If, Gods forbid, President Adar had died, the Presidency would fall on you.”

That was a good point, but she was far from experienced in this. How far down the line was she again? 43rd? But it didn’t matter; since she’d picked her job back up, that made her number 2 now until someone else was designated. WIth a slow nod, she straightened up in her chair. “What was on the President’s schedule for today?”

Billy looked down at the papers he’d set down on his lap during their catch up. “There’s an updated bill to review and sign, reports from the ships’ captains to go over, meeting with Commander Adama.” 

“What’s the meeting about?” Laura asked.

“Unspecified.”

“Alright.” She took a breath and sighed it out. “I’ll look over the bill, but if it’s not urgent, it’ll have to wait until the President is back. Do hand me the reports, and can you see if Commander Adama would like to reschedule for when the President is back? I’d hate for us to block some time in our days only for him to realise it’s me he’ll be dealing with.”

Billy smiled at her in an encouraging sort of way. “I will, Madam Secretary. Is there anything else?” 

Well, if she was in charge… might as well get things done; things they desperately needed. it would save time to get them done now instead of endlessly bickering with Richard. He’d admitted once that he was admirative of her ability to stand her ground in cabinet meetings, and fight back against Hansen in defense who constantly belittled teachers and argued a part of her budget should be redirected into his. Now, the President would watch her stand her ground again - the stakes were much higher than budget cuts.

“Could you contact the ships’ captains and get them to communicate how many people are on each ship? We need to know what we’re dealing with. And how many children, too.”

“I’ll do that now so they have time to count.”

“Thank you, Billy. I’m glad you’re here.” she smiled at him gratefully, knowing Richard’s staff wouldn’t be as welcoming. “Is Tory Foster still the President’s Chief of Staff? I’d like to speak to her today, at some point, preferably early afternoon.” The last thing she needed was to antagonise Richard’s Chief of Staff, for her to feel ignored and like Laura was using Billy to run the show. And she had a request that wouldn’t necessarily be well-received.

“I can arrange that.”

Billy left and brought her back the reports he’d mentioned. She dove straight into them, coming up every time Billy came back with an update on the headcount. She’d asked him for regular updates, and every additional number sent a thrill down her spine, simultaneously reminding her that this was so much more than her group of survivors on Caprica, but also that  _ this was it _ . The remainder of the human race.

She still wasn’t done reviewing the condition of the fleet and finding out more about the surviving ships when Tory Foster stepped into the office. The woman had never been anything but utterly professional - and she was very good at her job - but they hadn’t clicked so well.

Now Tory was looking around the office, clearly thinking it wasn’t Laura’s to occupy. “Madam Secretary? You wanted to see me.”

“Tory, I want to thank you and your staff for welcoming me back on board. This is a difficult situation for everyone, and I appreciate it.” 

Tory sat down on a chair in front of Laura’s desk and nodded at her. “Of course, Madam Secretary. We were all happy you made it off Caprica. It was a miracle. The Gods must have been watching out for you.”

Laura herself still wasn’t sure how they’d pulled that off, so she shared the sentiment.

This was it now. The thing Richard would take really, really badly. She’d debated with herself all day about whether she could do that, whether she was even allowed to, not being President but just a temporary fix. But this was just respecting the law, in the end. Richard would eventually have to realise this was to help him, and help all of them. Anyone with undisputed power would abuse it at some point, if given the right set of circumstances. The Quorum represented some protection against that. 

“Now, I would like you to send a message through the fleet that we’re reinstating the Quorum of Twelve and we’re going to put something in place for people to choose their delegates.”

Tory narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms in obvious opposition to that measure. “Madam Secretary, this isn’t in your power. President Adar is against it.”

“Who’s leading while the President is recovering, then?” Laura challenged, looking directly at the other woman. “Tell me, because I’m dying to know. If there’s someone else, I’ll take it up with them.”

Tory was the first to look away. “I...don’t know, Madam Secretary.”

Laura pressed on, knowing her point had resonated. “If the President had formed a new Quorum before this, this question would be irrelevant and you wouldn’t have to deal with me. Now, if the Secretary of Education has to be put in that position, she’s going to make sure that processes are in place in case it happens again. Please get that message out.”

“I will,” Tory agreed, but she didn’t have much choice anyway. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“I’ll let you know. Thank you, Tory.” 

#

Laura had not anticipated how long it took to go from Colonial One to Galactica, and therefore, she was late. Late for her appointment at sickbay. She’d escaped sickbay last night before Cottle could catch up with her, which meant to him insisting that she come today. The doctor was grumpy whether she was early or late anyway, so that didn’t change much. That would give her a chance to check in on Richard, too. 

That also meant being late for her meeting with the fleet’s military head afterwards. This one, she was unhappy about. They were meeting in a professional capacity for the first time, and she’d wanted to show him to respect her as the acting leader. Now she was late and couldn’t find her way around the warship. Billy had told her how Commander Adama was planning to hold the meeting in his quarters, and that had both intrigued and displeased her. He was going to respect her as a professional, and not get her to come to meetings in his frakking bedroom. Richard had tried to pull this stunt many times, succeeded once, but boundaries had to be set.

When she entered the Commander’s quarters, however, anger subsided a little as she remembered who she was dealing with. Bill had always been honest, and it turned out his quarters were much more than a simple bedroom. 

Her first thought entering the living space was that she'd left the bulky spaceship with its grey metal everywhere and utilitarian amenities to step in someone’s home. Carpets covered parts of the floor, absorbing footsteps and some of the ambient noise. Books lay around the room everywhere there was some space, and even some other places where there wasn't. This was what comforted Laura a little - he hadn't changed in that respect, and that was a relief. They'd had a special relationship with books, together. 

She walked further into the room, imagining the sense of home he must be feeling there, with the wooden furniture, the paintings and the model ship on display. This certainly would help making space a little friendlier. 

Bill stood on the right by the table, the picture of the serious officer. When he saw her, the corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Madam Secretary.”

"Commander, I’m sorry, I'm a little late," she said, walking over to the table. “Do you always hold meetings with the President here?”

“No, I don’t. He often insists on having them on Colonial One.” 

Laura frowned as she sat down, but didn’t comment further. “How is everyone here?” she asked as Bill retrieved the folders to be discussed and sat down across from her. “Galactica took a beating from those Cylon ships, didn’t it?”

“She’ll pull through,” Bill replied confidently. “She’s seen worse.”

“I heard people are unhappy we didn’t go through with the expedition.”

“People have been unhappy from the start,” he pointed out. 

“You know what I mean. There’s something that needs to be done about it.”

“I’m sure the government can handle civilians.”

Laura glowered slightly at his lack of helpful suggestions, but accepted the change of subject that followed to what they  _ could  _ solve during this encounter.

The work part of the meeting didn’t last long, both because Laura still didn’t know that much about either the military or the inner workings of the fleet, and Bill didn’t have that much to discuss. This could’ve been done over the phone, but now that she was there, Laura couldn’t complain. In any case, this was her first meeting done, and considering she’d put the assembly of a new Quorum into motion, it wouldn’t be the last.

She’d figured out why the place looked so cosy. The light was a soft yellow instead of the bright, aggressive white she’d encountered everywhere else. It made the whole cabin instantly feel warmer, somewhere to be comfortable. 

Bill stood up, so Laura did as well, but instead of showing her the door, he walked away to grab two glasses. “I could have cancelled this meeting, but I thought you might enjoy a drink at the end of your first day. And I didn’t get to talk to you since we came back.”

Laura’s voice remained distant as she watched him blur the lines. He couldn’t do that. “I’ve been in politics for years, I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, Laura,” he replied as if the very fact that this could be in question was absurd. “Would you like a drink?”

“Is this how all your meetings with the President end?” she asked, knowing full well this wasn’t the case. Richard and Bill would drink together when pigs fly, or Cylons become human. 

“No,” he confirmed, sensing the implications in her tone, and putting the glasses down again.

Laura pushed the chair under the table and walked back to the hatch. “Then, I’d like to be considered in the same way.”

This was absurd and she knew it. Still, if she had to take on that role, it would have to take over personal feelings. Workplace relationships never ended well. Take Richard and his change in behaviour when she started pulling away from him for example. And it was even more dangerous now than it had been then, because this was Bill, and because they simply couldn’t screw this up and mess with the rest of humanity.

Bill’s booming voice caught her with a hand on the wheel. “I’m fine with treating you strictly in the same way if that’s what you want, Laura. But there’s no need. The difference between you and Adar is that I respect you. I know you. We’re not strangers, either, and you rank higher in my mind. When it’s just us and we’re off work, I think we can be friendly.”

“We’re not going to pick up where we left off,” Laura declared firmly, more for herself than him. She was the one who needed to hear that. Perhaps she was also the one who needed to work on boundaries, after all. He seemed to be doing fine with his own. 

“No, we’re not, and I don’t want that.”

Oddly, that reassured her, and she turned back to him. “We could use a friend, couldn’t we?” she said with a small smile, which he reciprocated. 

But the first step towards being friends might be to tear her eyes away from the brightness of his smile, and stop wondering what it would feel like against her face.

“We could,” he agreed. “I know this is temporary, your presidential powers, but I’m sure you’d do a great job if it ever became permanent.”

“You really mean that?” she asked with a slight frown. 

His eyes were clear and honest as they found hers again, putting strength behind his words. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And that was it; if anyone was sincere in his praise, it was him. That she couldn’t trust anyone’s word anymore was a testament to how long she had spent in politics already, but he was assuring her she had an ally in this, and she would be a fool to refuse. Never had she thought they could still be friends - civil? yes, but friends was another matter - but here they were now.

“President Adar may not feel the same way when he is back.” She couldn’t quite keep the smirk off her lips. She’d done what needed to be done, but Richard would be furious. Somehow, her brain found it funny. “I started the process of getting new Quorum delegates.”

It became evident in the strain in Bill’s jaw and the amusement dancing in his eyes that he was struggling not to laugh. It didn’t last long, and soon they were both laughing at her audacity. 

“How is he doing?” Bill asked once laughter subsided.

“He’s loopy from the meds,” Laura replied, struggling to keep a lid on the giggles as she recounted what Richard had told her. “When I told him about my decision earlier, he said ‘that’s great, Laura, can you save me a seat’, so he’s not ready to be back.”

They laughed some more, and it felt good, relieving the tension that had been steadily building. No matter what happened, making him laugh so much that it broke his stern facade remained one of her greatest prides. When his chest stopped shaking with fits of laughter, she had to bite the inside of her cheek at the way he looked at her. 

“I’ll take that drink after all,” she said to give them a distraction.

The comms buzzed at the same time, giving yet another welcome distraction. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said as he went to pick it up. 

So Laura gave herself a tour of the living space, stopping in front of a bookshelf to examine what he deemed precious enough to have it with him on his ship at all times. Some classics, a few amazing reads that had given her hard-to-replicate feelings, a lot that she didn’t know, and one she knew very well. 

Out of nostalgia, she picked  _ Searider Falcon _ from the shelf and flicked it open. A note fell out and she bent down to pick it up. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest and she stuck the note back inside. She remembered exactly what it said, didn’t need to see the words of love in her own handwriting. 

Frak, this was the copy of their favourite book she’d gifted him. And as she turned it and saw the stain covering half of the width of the spine, she knew she was right. Why, after so many years, did the sight of that book give her the urge to blush? It wasn’t  _ technically  _ the book, but the memories associated.

“CIC checking in,” Bill’s voice came from behind her and she froze, then turned around quickly with the book still in hand. The moment he saw it, she knew the same memory was playing in his mind as was in hers. “Last time I let a book near food,” he said, his face giving nothing away. She used to be so much better at reading his expressions.

They hadn’t exactly  _ let  _ the book near food. It had been one of those days they wouldn’t leave the bed. Reading, making love, eating takeaway pizza, reading again while trying not to get distracted. They’d have wild bets on who could distract the other the fastest. They’d have bets on everything; the clashing of young, stubborn, competitive minds.

“Anyway,” she forced herself out of her thoughts and returned the book to its place on the bookshelf. “I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy, I’m sorry,” she said, in the most detached way she was capable of. This friends thing was going to be harder than expected.

Bill went to pour drinks instead of replying, since there was nothing to say. No, there was an abundance of things to say, but nothing they were willing to share with each other. She accepted the glass he handed her and let out a sigh as she sat down on his couch. That thing was way more comfortable than it had any right to be, and she remained exhausted.

“You said you wanted to celebrate my first day,” she started, although he hadn’t said  _ celebrate _ , exactly. “So, to responsibilities. Those we never thought we’d have.”

“So say we all,” he mumbled before taking a sip, making her snort.

#

Two women in red dresses watched the former lovers bond again on the worn leather couch, but stayed invisible to their eyes. The blonde had taken the appearance of the Cylon that Gaius Baltar had let into the defence mainframe. He’d called her Six, all those times she’d chosen to appear only to him, which she’d found suited her just fine. The other one enjoyed the looks of the future President of the Colonies, the same human woman who currently smiled at the military leader of the human fleet like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

“Look at them,” Iris said, feeling like one of those mothers she’d observed beaming with pride at their children’s accomplishments. She perched herself on the table, feet dangling off, just like the first time she’d appeared to Bill. She still remembered that moment fondly. 

Six groaned. “That’s all I can do, now that you killed Gaius. You better have a good reason.”

“I didn’t kill him… I simply let him die.”

Six waved her off. “Semantics.”

“I don’t make the rules,” Iris shrugged. 

“Don’t you?” Six asked, and Iris laughed at that. “It looks like you struggle with him.”

“He’s so much harder than I thought,” Iris said unhappily, picking at the hem of her dress. “Never believes me. Never does anything I say. Never even listens.”

“Should’ve killed him instead of Gaius then.”

Iris snorted. “You know what happens if Baltar is in charge.”

“He has potential.” Six frowned. “And he’s insanely good at sex.”

“I knew there was a reason you enjoyed the assignment.”

“Have you tried that with him? Maybe he’ll listen. He’s a human male, after all. They’re not that complicated,” Six mused, pushing off the bulkhead to pace around the cabin. “The fact that Gaius believed I was only in his head didn’t stop us.”

“I tried. He threatened to kill me. He’s only interested in her.” Iris pointed at Laura. She wondered if she were to show herself to both of them right now, if they would even notice her, focused on each other as they were. But that would stay in her mind, not something worth ruining everything for

“But… you look like her.”

At Six’s confused look, Iris shrugged. “I know!” she agreed, not quite understanding it either. 

“Why don’t we just do it ourselves again? It would be so much easier. This particular group of humans has been through a lot.”

Iris glared at her. “Because we don’t intervene.”

“Right,” Six replied sarcastically. “We don’t intervene. That’s not at all what we’re doing.”


	13. The Quorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly-formed Quorum elects a Vice President

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which they are absolutely and completely smitten
> 
> (how do these chapters keep getting longer and longer??)

The last week had been the busiest in Laura’s life, between meetings, planning for the return of the Quorum, the press and the never-ending paperwork. It was the end of the world, how was there so much paperwork? It turned out the people and the press weren’t fond of her assuming power like this either, and kept questioning her authority. That was fair.

This was the only reason she was glad for Richard’s return. He had officially come back to work that morning and told her, in no uncertain terms and very loudly, how he didn’t want to see her again. He didn’t think her initiative was ‘great’ anymore. It was all very dramatic, but for once, he had a good reason. She had majorly gone against his wishes, and there was no way he could go back now. New delegates had been elected, and the new Quorum was set to meet on Cloud Nine the next day. The only thing he could do now, and had done, was to get rid of her in his government. 

Laura sighed as she looked at the number displayed in the Vice President’s office she’d occupied for a week. She wasn’t sure she’d been able to convey the sheer importance of that number to the President. He seemed convinced they were just going on a ride, and whether it was denial or his head had been hit too hard, it couldn’t go on, or they’d go extinct. A knock on the open door made her turn around, and the worry tied to those thoughts ran away. Wally stood at the door, and seeing the both of them back in their business attires, one would never have thought they’d spent weeks surviving side by side on the nuked Caprica. 

“I’m about to go to Cloud Nine for the preparations, thought I’d come and say hi,” he said.

“Wally, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Laura grinned at him, grateful for the distraction. “How are you?”

Wally glanced at the number on the wall before his eyes settled on her. “About to get busy. I don’t know if you’ve heard.”

Laura quickly nodded. She’d followed the matter closely, so she couldn’t have missed his nomination… or Tom Zarek’s. “Yes, I have. Congratulations! Delegate for Caprica. You’ll be great.”

“You didn’t run, so they had to go with me.”

Laura chuckled. “No, I’m fine where I am. Or where I was.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say the President didn’t appreciate my initiative. He booted me out.”

“Wow. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Wally said, rather mysteriously, and she gestured to the chairs in front of her desk before sitting down in hers.

“Please. What can I do for you?”

“There have been whispers among the delegates to call for the election of a Vice President tomorrow. Virgon already declared he’d nominate Tom Zarek from Sagittaron. I don’t have to tell you how terrible it would be for us.”

Laura had a feeling she knew where this was going, and she wouldn’t like it. “There would probably be an unfortunate accident the next day where the President would lose his life.”

“Exactly. Laura, I want to nominate you.”

“Wally, not that I’m not flattered, but aren’t there other people?” But there weren’t. She was the last alive cabinet member, which, even though she’d dealt only with education, put her above anyone else in terms of experience. For someone who didn’t even want to get into politics in the first place, was she really running for the Vice Presidency? 

“None capable of beating Zarek.”

Laura hummed as she thought, resting her chin on her hand. “I heard he gained quite the support in the fleet going against the President. Some delegates would be tempted to pick him.”

“But he pales next to you. You’re eloquent, you’re a survivor. You’ve worked closely with the President, while putting him and Zarek together would be a bloodbath. People know that.” 

Laura nodded, knowing Wally was making good points. He hadn’t been Richard’s campaign advisor for nothing. He could devise a strategy, analyse its potential outcomes, and then see it through. “You’ve given this a lot of thought,” she realised. 

“Remember on Caprica, you said you’d consider the presidency if our group ever became big enough to be a threat to the Cylons?” Wally asked, and she couldn’t believe he remembered that. 

“You know, I said that because I didn’t think we’d survive long anyway,” Laura admitted with a small smile, slightly sheepish. 

“Between you and me, Laura,” Wally leaned forward, going quieter for the end of the sentence. “the President has lost it a little. The people need you.”

Laura sighed, preparing for the fights this would no doubt engage with Richard. Maybe this time, he’d actually listen. “Alright.” 

#

Richard Adar was not amused. Here he’d thought he was done with Quorum meetings, Virgon and Leonis arguing over literally anything, and headache-inducing, pointless debates, but no, there he was again. All because of Laura Roslin. 

Not content with ruining his life, and even though she wasn’t part of the government anymore, she’d managed to get a seat in the room and watched the disaster happen in real time. She sat in a chair behind the podium, legs crossed at the ankles, head held high, and even after everything, the fire of her still made her so attractive. Frak. 

He now stood in front of the podium, looking up at the twelve delegates each sitting above the flag of their respective colony, and started speaking. He’d always been great at public speaking, one of the things he could credit to winning the election twice. An agenda for the session had been drawn up, which included many tense topics, and he read through it as he used to do back on Caprica. This was the easy part.

But this experience was already so different, if only because of a criminal’s presence in the sacred Quorum of Twelve. Tom Zarek had his eyes fixed on him, waiting for an opportunity to challenge him. Adar had been so close not to allow him on Cloud Nine on the basis of security, but that risked further angering the Sagittarons, something he couldn’t afford to do. For once, Adama had agreed with him that they shouldn’t let Zarek board, but he would take his chances and hope it paid. 

“Now, if there aren’t any objections. We can move on.”

Tom Zarek stood up, and every head turned to him. “I have an objection.”

With a glare that had no effect on Zarek, Adar spoke again. “The chair recognises Sagittaron.”

“Mr President. Thank the Lords you’re alright. I’d like to bring something to this session’s agenda. Frankly, I’m surprised to see the most critical issue has not been mentioned at all,” he drew it out, enjoying his power on his audience that waited for his next words. “The election of a Vice President. If, Gods forbid, you were incapacitated again, we would be lost. The government would be paralysed,” he said, and whispers filled the room, accompanied by firm nods. “Sagittaron moves that the first item on the Quorum’s agenda should be the election of a Vice President.”

In that moment, Richard could have strangled him and have no remorse. For a while, there was silence as the two men regarded each other with a rivalry that went beyond politics. If left alone in a room, it wasn’t a given that both would come out alive. 

Caprica seconded, and the motion passed. Every single delegate then voted for the opening of nominations. He was frakking screwed. 

For frak’s sake. 

Not one to be deterred, though, Adar smiled at them all, a political smile, honed by years of press meetings, business proposals and encounters with the public. There wasn’t anything he could do about the issue right now but appear in complete control of the situation; something he had, in reality, lost weeks ago.

“The floor is now open for nominations,” he declared, although the words had trouble leaving his mouth. 

Virgon raised his hand and spoke when prompted. “There is only one man here who is willing to work for the people of this fleet. He sent a crew to fix the air filtration system on my ship, and they were done while I was still waiting for the President’s office to return my calls. I nominate Tom Zarek.”

Gemenon seconded, and Zarek’s nomination for the Vice Presidency became official. Frak, if he didn’t want a terrorist for a VP, the President had to think of a plan, and fast. That plan wasn’t for Caprica, his former advisor, to stand up and request to speak, but it happened anyway.

“My colleague from Virgon might be accidentally right when he says there is only one man willing to do that. But as for women, we have one who has proved she is more than capable, has years of experience, and is dedicated to everyone’s survival. Caprica nominates Laura Roslin.”

Picon seconded. and at this point, Adar wasn’t sure who would be worse to second him: someone who didn’t seem to have any morale, or someone who’d betrayed him many times over by now? He should’ve known Laura wouldn’t back down without a fight. He’d been livid when he’d come back to work to see all she’d done, enraged at the sight of the names of the new Quorum delegates, and had fired her on the spot. But he should have known. She’d been out for his job from the start, had ried to undermine him every step of the way. And now, if he didn’t come up with a viable solution, he’d be stuck with her as Vice President. That couldn’t happen. 

The session was adjourned and Richard turned around to look at Laura who was smiling at him, having the nerve to look satisfied. He made his way off stage and directly to her, intent on fixing the mess she’d made. Again. 

"Laura, a word please," he said, his voice tight even as he kept smiling for the press. 

“Mr President,” she replied, and he knew that tone, but drew upon his strength not to react until they were alone. 

#

Laura walked out of the Cloud Nine ballroom and into a room that had been dedicated for the President’s preparations. Richard’s security detail took position outside the room as both politicians entered. She could see it all boil under the surface of his skin, and it exploded as soon as they were away from prying ears, just as she’d expected.

“Are you frakking kidding me, Laura?” he shouted, but it was the use of the swear word that surprised Laura the most. When she’d known him on Caprica, he’d prided himself on speaking all nice and proper, but that had apparently gone flying out the airlock now.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mr President,” she replied calmly, which seemed to rile him up even further. Wally was right, she did need to do this. He had lost it.

“I had no idea you were so petty,” he huffed. “Women. I should never have f-”

Laura cut him off before he could finish that thought. “Be  _ really  _ careful about what you’re going to say,” she said in a tone that could’ve turned a flame into an ice cube. “Not everything is about you, or this thing there was between us.”

Richard shook his head so fast he ought to have felt dizzy from it. He could never separate his work and his personal life. “I won’t let you do this to me. To this administration.” 

“Do you know what’s happening to your people?  _ Your  _ people?” Her voice was rising, but she didn’t care much. Not now. “The fact that  _ I  _ have to act in this way shows how utterly, completely you have failed. Remember, I didn’t choose this. I came in to help you. You had to convince me to join politics. I was happy to be a teacher.”

“Then go back to that.”

Not on many occasions had Laura wanted to slap him this badly. But she couldn’t get away with physical violence upon the person of the President. “I can’t. Not anymore. Not when the survival of the human race is at stake.” 

“The survival of the human race? You’re being dramatic, Laura.”

“Am I? We’re on the run from the Cylons, with forty-six thousand people, and that’s it. That’s all of us left, tell me how I’m being dramatic?” she demanded, wondering how he could be so dense. It was like banging her head against the wall. 

Richard looked at her, then at the door, and simply left. Laura couldn’t consider that a victory. She was sure he would use the next three days to discredit her and push forward a candidate of his choosing. 

And he did, but his candidate’s nomination wasn’t even seconded, and therefore didn’t come into the game. It would be Zarek against Roslin. 

Three days, the entire length of the Quorum meeting were dedicated to campaigning. It was unusual to campaign for herself, but Laura made a compelling speech on talk wireless, presented a potential plan of action in front of the Quorum, and met with several delegates. In public, she had the President’s benevolence. In private… there was none of that anymore. In private, she talked to Bill over the phone, and his strong support helped settle her nerves. 

#

_ “That makes four votes for Zarek and four for Roslin so far. A number of delegates have shifted their support to Laura Roslin, a member of the Cabinet of the President for several years, a woman credited with the rebuilding of this very Quorum, someone who has spent weeks on Caprica fighting Cylons after the attacks. A very interesting development indeed.” _

Wireless was on in the CIC speakers and everyone listened, hung onto James McManus and Playa Palacios’s every word as they described what was going on in the Quorum meeting. Their commentary came in between every vote that the President read out loud. 

_ “Aquaria, Tom Zarek. Picon, Laura Roslin. Aerilon, Tom Zarek.” _

_ “If the next vote goes to Tom Zarek, he will have a majority and become Vice President.” _

Adar’s voice with the next vote was drowned out by one of the pilots flying CAP, and Bill cursed under his breath. Especially since the wireless went silent next. Shocked. Frak, Zarek won, didn’t he? The moment stretched.

_ “That’s incredible. We have a tie. The President will now cast the deciding vote.”  _ Playa’s voice came through again, and Bill let out a breath. That was close. 

When he’d talked to Laura on the phone the previous night, she’d been determined. It had reminded him of that time in university she’d fought with everyone in the administration to change an unfair policy. She’d been relentless. He’d fallen even further in love with her. 

The President was supposed to pick, now, cast the deciding vote. But it took too long for Laura’s name to come. Was Adar really going to pick a terrorist instead of her? If Bill had previously wondered if there was anything personal left between the two politicians, he didn’t anymore.

_ “Laura Roslin,”  _ the president eventually said. 

Saul sent Bill a look, and he returned it, immediately wiping the smile off his face. “What?” he asked. 

“Nothing. I’m sure she’ll need even more meetings on Galactica with you, now,” Saul said, barely hiding the meaning behind his words. He was amused by Bill’s antics, but equally as concerned and reluctant to see his friend’s heartbroken again. 

“She’s the Vice President,” Bill said as if that explained the daily talks he’d had with her in the past week. They both knew his calls with Laura hadn’t all been professional, but Saul knew better than to voice that in the middle of CIC when many officers were within earshot. 

Bill had to wait several hours after the announcement to be able to get out of CIC and to his quarters to change. While he hadn’t gone to Cloud Nine to follow the Quorum meeting, now, as the Commander of the fleet, he had to congratulate the new Vice President. But had it been Zarek, there would probably have been some urgent matters to attend to on Galactica. 

There was a small celebration held on the luxury liner, probably intending to reward everyone involved in the preparation of the new Quorum first meeting on a job well done. The military had helped make the Quorum session a safe event, so Bill wasn’t surprised to see Kara coming towards him when he boarded the ship.

“Good evening, sir, have you come to enjoy the festivities?” Kara asked with a knowing smile. They walked through the gardens to the main building, illuminated by the fake moonlight coming from the characteristic large dome above their heads.

“Good evening, Starbuck. How is everything?” he asked. 

“She’s over there.”

Ever since they’d been back from Kobol, Kara had started making allusions about his relationship with Laura every chance she could. He’d told her to keep quiet, and she had, but when it was just them, she enjoyed teasing mercilessly. 

But tonight, as they walked into the party, he had nothing intelligent to reply. Laura was there, on the other side of the room, talking to none other than Tom Zarek. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, this time, only a white blouse tucked into a pencil skirt. She had shied away from skirts because of how the waistband painfully rubbed against her stitches, so he took the fact that she wore one now as a sign she was feeling better. Just seeing her like this was worth the trip to Cloud Nine and the noise of the party.

Bill scanned the crowd and didn’t see the President, which was a relief. He got two drinks from the bar and walked up to Laura and Zarek with the air of someone not to be messed with, just in case Zarek wanted to try anything with him.

“Mr Zarek, Madam Vice President, do you mind?” he cut into their discussion.

Zarek looked at him, annoyed at the interruption but trying to be graceful about it. Laura’s face showed a lot more happiness at his presence, and he couldn’t care less about Zarek anyway.

“Commander Adama, I was surprised not to see you at all around the ship,” Zarek said. “But I did encounter some of your soldiers. Real dedicated people.”

“Yes, I’m lucky to have such men and women.” They had searched Zarek several times over the three days and watched him closely, something that the Sagittaron Delegate didn’t appreciate.

“Tell me, did they arrest and search all visitors? Or only the Sagittarons?” 

Bill made sure to look him in the eyes when he answered. “Only the criminals.” 

“Mr Zarek, please excuse us,” Laura said, her voice a bucket of water on the growing fire of the conversation.

“Bill,” she chided, taking one of the glasses from his hands.

He shook his head, swallowing arguments. He hadn’t come here for a fight. “Congratulations, Madam Vice President. What a day.”

This time, she smiled at him, the glow of victory making her look breathtaking. “Thank you, Commander. For the drink, too.”

Bill nodded in acknowledgment, and noticed the President emerge from a side door. “I can't believe he hesitated.” 

“I can. I’ve attacked his ego many times over in our recent history. In the end, he wasn’t going to allow Tom Zarek into the government, but he wanted to make sure I knew how unhappy he was. Having to pick me after he fired me killed him, but he chose me because I’m the devil he knows.”

“Politics. As exciting as war.”

Laura hummed in agreement, bringing the glass to her lips. “Definitely as dangerous.” 

“And you’ve come out on top this time.”

“I have, haven’t I? Oh Gods, Vice President.”

“You will be fine. You’re not so bad. For a politician.” Although Bill kept his voice even, Laura saw the teasing through it and laughed.

“Commander, you impress me. Will I get to bring you into the Quorum’s next session?” Unlike him, she didn’t try to pretend she was being serious, and the twinkle in her eyes made the stars pale in comparison. 

“I have my limits. But dancing with the Vice President is something I can do,” he offered, putting his now empty glass on the table. “A sacrifice, considering I remember she always steps on my feet.” 

Laura raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, and the reasoning in her head was almost transparent. That would bring them closer than they’d been since their reunion - if one didn’t count the unconscious snuggling. “You have big feet,” she argued and downed the rest of her drink, making a face as the alcohol burned down her throat. She took a deep breath and took his arm. “Let’s dance. I’m wearing heels.”

He’d noticed the heels when he’d first entered and her back had been to him, when he’d been able to ogle to his heart’s content. They moved further towards the middle of the dance floor and swung gently to the lively music. One of her hands found his, and she rested the other on his shoulder, so he placed his on her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric. They were so close he could feel her breath on his neck, and what a bad idea he’d had asking for that dance. He couldn’t regret it though, not when she was so close he could feel her heartbeat in his palm. 

In that moment, it didn’t matter that people were watching, among which the dissatisfied President. They’d found a moment of peace in each other’s arms, and fully intended on taking advantage of that. He thought he saw longing in the depths of Laura’s eyes, but that couldn’t be true. 

It would take nothing at all to go one step further. A slight move of his head, a tilt of hers, and that would be it. He could just lean in, remind himself of the taste of her lips, the feel of her mouth- but it would hurt too much. Saul would punch him if he found out he was thinking of caving and falling back in love with Laura. But he could hardly help it. If he hadn’t been able to resist her in his twenties, he was doomed now. 

At the end of the dance, Laura’s smile was warm and she kept his hand in hers, leading them out of the building.

“I need some fresh air,” she explained, which was a bit of a weird thing to say while stuck in a metal tin. But so long as it got them away from people… She looked at him in the light of the ‘street lamp’ and her eyes followed the line of the sash across his chest. “You look fancy tonight,” she commented. “Is that your celebration uniform?”

“Pretty much.” Now wasn’t the moment to correct her on the proper term.

“It suits you.”

At his curious smile, she blushed and looked away, not letting him in on what had prompted that reaction. As they started walking in the grass, Laura pushed her hair to one side and held herself on Bill’s arm as she took off her heels and held them with one hand. “That’s better. I kept sinking into the ground.”

“The gardener would’ve kicked your ass.” 

“Yes, and I’d rather keep my shoes. I can’t believe my luck that I stored some clothes on Colonial One ages ago. But if I’d known this was going to happen, I would’ve brought more practical things than just these work suits.”

“Like what?”

They passed guards as they walked around the alleys of the gardens, but no one seemed to pay them too much attention. They had gone far enough from the building to be alone and quiet now, strolling in between the many different kinds of plants and trees that grew in the pressurised natural habitat of the ship.

“Warm socks. Pyjamas. Sneakers. Oh sneakers sound nice,” Laura replied quickly, then seemed to think against mentioning the next one. “You?”

“What I wish I had?” Bill asked for clarification, and she hummed a yes, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she watched him in such a way that made him forget all about the question again. What else mattered but the sight of her, victorious and beautiful, and talking again with the awkwardness of the past left to worry about later? 

But his answer might have been obvious anyway because she nodded and her hand tightened around his arm. 

“You know what I miss?” she spoke again after a few minutes. “Water. An ocean, a stream, or even a pool. I’ll take anything.”

Bill thought back to Laura’s love of water and the pure enjoyment she got out of it, and it made him smile. “I thought Colonial One had a pool? It was such a scandal when the rumour started, I was sure it had to be real.”

Laura’s face brightened further. She truly was basking in her victory, and it was such a gorgeous sight Bill might want to thank Adar for letting her have it. But he wasn’t that far gone yet that he’d thank that moron for anything. “Oh my Gods, I forgot about that. Would you like to go with me?”

_ Would he like to go bathing with Laura?  _ How was that a question? Images of her swimsuit-clad body assaulted his mind, and- wait, she probably didn’t even have a swimsuit.  _ Frak, what is she saying? _ He had to clear his throat before being able to speak, but even then, his voice came out wrong. How could she put those images in his mind and expect him to still be able to function?

“Maybe another time.”

If they did that, then this pretence that they were just friends would dissolve in that pool and ruin everything. 

“Do you remember my parents’ cabin next to this amazing lake? How we sneaked away at night?” she asked, and as he was about to reply that he did, her eyes clouded with something dark and she went silent.

They hadn’t really talked about family yet, because most of humanity had died, and they had all lost so much, but perhaps they should. “I do remember it. We had some good times.”  While Laura’s father might not have been overly fond of her dating a viper jock, her entire family had been welcoming anyway, and invited him along to their lovely cabin. “I assume that in the attacks, they didn’t make it?” he asked. There wasn’t really a tasteful way to ask that, was there?

“They had a car accident sixteen years ago. At least, they didn’t have to see this. When I woke up on Caprica, it was my first time being glad I had no family left. I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to survive that on top of everything.” Laura pulled her hand to free it from his and turn away, a clear indication she regretted saying all that, but he wrapped her in his arms anyway. She wasn’t going to leave again. Once she had her head against his chest, it only took a few seconds before she wrapped her own arms around his back. 

“I’m sorry, Laura. They were good people.” Sixteen years would have been right before they saw each other again. And she hadn’t said anything. “So that was when we met again.”

Although he hadn’t voiced his question,  _ why didn’t you tell me then?  _ she heard it loud and clear. She pulled back to look up at his face, blinking black tears that she stubbornly refused to let out. “What was I supposed to say? To do? I left you, Bill. I did. And then seeing you? I wasn’t doing well; it had only been six months since the accident. I wanted you so badly, but I couldn’t have told you. I couldn't have stayed.”

The question he’d always wanted to ask,  _ and why did you leave? _ burned his tongue again, but this time, he didn’t say anything, didn’t let her guess the question in his eyes. This would be for another time. 

They didn’t speak again for a while, just spent time walking around, and then sitting on a border in front of some rose bushes; but it was just as well, because there was communication in silence, some things that were hard to say with words - things about regret, about loss and about the love that could shine through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They almost forced my hand into some skinny dipping this chapter... but realistically, how long can I really hold them off


	14. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has feelings (or the chapter that talks about past and present relationships)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexually-charged boxing moment anyone? (I indulged thirsty Laura there)
> 
> I wasn't supposed to write today... now look at us, slipping a tiny unplanned chapter into the mix before plot kicks us in the butt once more (but at least there will _finally_ be kissing)

Laura slid into her new role with disconcerting ease. Maybe it was because she had already been doing the job for a week, or because she felt more confident in her ability to do the right thing, or because Richard seemed to have toned down the aggressiveness, therefore being easier to deal with. But it wasn’t any one thing, rather a mix of all of those reasons, giving her a welcome respite. 

Richard had considerably calmed down since the first Quorum meeting, and accepted the situation. Laura wasn't surprised by that - he may get stupid at times, he might get angry, but he was no idiot. He’d been in the game long enough to recognise he would need her now that she was Vice President, and would have to work with her and the Quorum. In a sense, the return of the accountability of the twelve delegates had brought a sense of relief to everyone, including him.

That didn’t mean meetings between the President and the Vice President went well. Far from that. But Richard could no longer dismiss Laura’s concerns on the basis that he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone, and that made everything easier to manage. 

As Laura explained for the second time that week the urgent need to reveal the Cylons’ human form to the public before it got out of their control, Richard watched her, wondering how to get her back after their epic fight over her involvement in his government. She always said he didn't know how to separate the personal from the professional, but he didn't think that was true. No matter what she'd done to him and to his career, he still wanted to grab her and frak her in the middle of that never-ending meeting. They always got violent somehow; she’d bite his shoulder, he’d bruise her hip, and sometimes, those would last for days.

"Do you remember the time we frakked on that desk?" he asked, interrupting the sentence he hadn’t really listened to. 

Laura sighed, not bothering to hide her exasperation. "Excuse me?"

“I wondered if you remembered. If you don’t, I’m happy to refresh your memory.”

“Is there a point to this? I doubt that’s related to the press conference on Cylons and their human form.”

"Don't be so stubborn, Laura. You played your game, I played mine, and here we are. Back together. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Would you have told the same thing to Tom Zarek? Asked him to spread his legs over your desk?"

Richard chuckled, relaxing back into his cushioned chair. "He's not my type. He doesn't drive me crazy like you do. And I know you want this too; you once said I made you feel alive. If there is ever a moment to feel alive, it’s now, when we should’ve been dead."

"That was another time. Can we go back to the issue at hand, please?" she asked, waving the file in her hand.

“Laura,” he said in that patronising tone of his. “stop asking that.”

“Then stop taking the conversation off work,” Laura countered. She gritted her teeth, then gave in to the subject, hoping this would allow them to quickly get back on track. “You said you should never have frakked me, and that's the only thing we've agreed on in a while. I’m glad you were able to see reason.”

Richard clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I was angry, Laura, and you know why. I didn't mean that, just like you never meant it when you said it was over.”

“I always meant it, but I lacked some good sense. It's fine, I found it back now. It was under all those bodies around me on Caprica.”

"Don't be morbid,” he chided, before a smirk took up almost half his face. It was always the challenge for him. And now that she was in the fight again, that she’d literally forced his hand to take her back, it revived his desire to own her, just for the hell of it, just because he knew she never made it easy, and he'd never liked easy. He was sure she would cave again. “What I'm hearing is that the sex was so good you literally lost your ability to think. I frakked the thought out of you. Honestly, that's a compliment." 

Laura couldn’t quite believe she had to deal with the arrogant bastard now. But then the trait she hated now had been the one to draw her in before. That, and the fact that she did lose the ability to think for a little bit, or to feel anything beyond the physical sensations, which was why she’d kept it on. Still, if they hadn’t started, they wouldn’t be having this pain-in-the-ass conversation right now. 

She set the file in her hand on the desk and looked straight at him. “Let's be honest with each other for once, Richard,” she started, pausing for a second to make sure she had his undivided attention. His brow furrowed. They weren’t used to honesty. “You wanted me, I wanted you, we had our thing. And that's it. Can you be an adult about it? If you can’t, I’ll come back later.”

"Honest, right?” Richard repeated. “Is this about Adama? And that dance the night of the election? It's funny, me, then him… a rebound because I was angry with you? You do like them with power, don’t you? The more the better."

"Actually, it was him, then you." She corrected, finding pride in the way he gaped at her. He truly hadn't expected that. 

She'd never wanted to tell him about her history with Bill, but realistically that couldn’t be an option. With both men leading the fleet and her coming in third, it would've been exposed one day, and at least this way, she could control how it came out. it would make its way out in the open one way or another. And at least now, she could control it.

It showed on his face, the realisation that  _ he  _ had been the rebound and not the other way around, and Laura briefly wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake. She knew him to be possessive, vindictive, obsessed with controlling the people around him.

Too late now anyway.

“So about that press conference,” he started again after a minute and a sip of water to regain some countenance. “I already said yes, didn’t I?”

#

After that obnoxious meeting, Laura had a lot to do, which left her busy and unable to blow off steam until the evening. By that time, she was even more restless, something crawling dangerously under her skin. If she stayed on Colonial One, pacing around her bedroom, she was going to go stir crazy. And just like that, she found herself on her way to Galactica. Bill had mentioned on the phone being off shift for once in the evening, and if that wasn’t a clear invitation, she wasn’t sure what was. They talked mostly over the phone these days, especially with how busy her start had been, but she missed actually seeing him. It was so nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of though - even if they didn’t always agree, Bill could listen to someone else than the sound of his own voice, unlike Richard.

They were friends once more, although it felt like more… which could just as well be wishful thinking. Since the night of the election, it felt like Bill shared her feelings. He didn’t say anything about it, and neither did she. Upon her arrival on Galactica, she asked after the Commander, and was told he was at the gym. Intrigued by both the existence of a gym on the ship and Bill’s presence there, she let herself be led down to it - she had to learn how to find her own way on that ship, but in the meantime, people seemed eager to be of assistance to the Vice President.

The dull sounds of a boxing match hit Laura’s ears before she saw the scene, and already, the hum in her veins intensified, becoming almost too loud when she saw Bill and his son circling each other. Both were in their fleet tanks, drenched in sweat, boxing gloves covering their fists. She leaned against the doorframe, intent on watching as Bill threw a punch to Lee’s stomach and the younger man bent in half. 

Concern over Bill’s health state was quickly quashed as it seemed he could hold his own remarkably well, even against someone decades younger. Gods she wished she was in that combat with them. She was buzzing with the energy of a hundred emotions and needed to find a way to let it out. She was in the mood for a fight.

After a moment, watching wasn’t enough anymore. But just as she was kicking off her shoes, Bill was thrown to the floor and let out a grunt.

“You alright?” Lee uttered around his mouthguard.

The dark look Bill sent him made Laura giggle, and both men turned towards her, finally registering they’d been watched for a while.

“Gentlemen. That was entertaining. Any chance I could join you?” she asked, her eyes gliding over Bill’s thick bicep as Lee helped him up. Catching him without that uniform jacket of his had been very nice indeed. She took off her glasses and set them somewhere on the side.

Bill watched her for a few seconds too long, his chest still moving rapidly with the intensity of the fight. He didn’t ask if she was sure - he knew that she was. He didn’t ask if she knew how to box - he knew she didn’t practice, but she’d watched plenty of fights with her father. 

His eyes never left hers as he slowly pulled off the boxing gloves and took away the piece protecting his teeth. She bit her lip, pushed her hair back, and stepped up to the ring. He started to unwrap the bandages around his hands, but she grabbed one of his wrists to still him, and took over the action. First, one hand, then the other, dragging the tips of her fingers over his open palms. He swallowed, a drop of sweat sliding down his chin and over his throat, and Laura felt dizzy for a second. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, an unconscious gesture, and Bill’s eyes snapped to her mouth, right where she’d wanted his since their dance. 

It was suddenly very hot in there, and Laura took off her jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor. She saw the tiniest curl in Bill’s lips at the careless move before he took her hands and reversed the process she’d just finished on him. His large hands moved against her slender ones, occasionally grazing the inside of her wrist, the touch soft and light, yet another contrast with the raw strength his hands held. 

“Um,” Lee cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure he wanted to be stuck in the middle of whatever was happening there. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to incapacitate the Vice President.”

“I want this,” Laura replied, but she wasn’t looking at Lee. 

Once she had the gloves on, Bill moved away, taking a sip from a bottle of water, and Laura stood in front of the young Captain. They started circling each other, trying a few things. It soon became apparent that Lee was pulling his punches, barely ever hitting her, which didn’t make it remotely fun. But he was showing her moves instead, which was nice of him, so she took it as the educational experience she hadn’t come looking for. 

When she left that room, it was even more energised than she’d entered it. 

When Bill spoke again as they were walking in the corridors, his voice was still as controlled as usual, something Laura envied, for hers was slightly higher. “Did we have a meeting tonight?” he asked.

“No, we didn’t,” she replied, and he nodded slowly. “I thought you wouldn’t mind a friend coming in for a drink.”

“I don’t.”

And that was all they exchanged until the hatch of his quarters closed behind them. Bill repeatedly rolled his shoulders, catching Laura’s attention. It was subtle, and if she hadn’t been watching him so intensely, she would’ve missed it. Was he hurt? He’d caught quite a few hits that didn’t look soft at all, so it was a very real possibility.

“Bill, are you hurt?” she eventually asked.

“Damn shoulder again,” he grumbled, moving his arm around to try and ease the ache. “I’m fine. I’ve always had this.”

“Is this the same injury?” The same that had happened when she’d known him, a stupid accident but one that had seriously impacted his shoulder and clavicle at the time.

“Yeah.”

Laura pulled a chair from the table and placed herself in front of it. “Come here.”

He eyed her warily and didn’t move. “I’m fine, Laura. And all sweaty,” he argued, as if that would stop her. 

“I don’t care.” She pointed at the chair, unyielding as she looked at him. “Bill, sit,” she ordered. “I still know how to make you behave when you’re hurt.”

She saw his brain short-circuit as he remembered exactly what she was talking about. He hadn’t wanted to miss a day of training for a stupid shoulder injury, and she’d kept him firmly in bed, using the full extent of her charms. He claimed that had been the most enjoyable injury of his life, paradoxical as that sounded.

So he complied and sat down on the chair. She brought her hands to his shoulders, feeling the warm, sticky skin under her fingers, and started kneading the muscles into relaxing. Even more than a fight, this was what she’d come here for, to be close to him, to share… a moment. 

“You should see Doc Cottle about this,” she advised, pressing her thumbs into the tops of his shoulders and over towards his neck.

“You’re a lot gentler than he is. I’ll stick with you,” he said, and although she couldn’t see his face, she heard the smile in his voice.

Laura laughed softly, soon finding the same knot that had formed in his muscles after his clavicle had broken. The new motion elicited a quiet groan from him. “I’m happy to help.” 

Bill didn’t protest further, and at some point, she needed better access, so she pulled at his tanks with intent. “Can you remove this?” she asked. For health purposes. Nothing else.

He stood up, pulled the garments over his head and turned to face her. Her eyes found the scar that bisected his chest and she swallowed, remembering the first time she’d seen him again, unconscious, lying almost dead. Knowing what she was thinking, he reached out a hand to touch her arm and pull her back to the present. She tore her eyes away from the scar, but her brain wasn’t satisfied, still looking for something there.

"You’re going to have a bad bruise," she had to comment, seeing the skin of his ribs taking on a yellowish colour already. She traced it lightly with her fingers, feeling him shudder at the touch.

"It doesn't matter, Laura," he whispered, his voice betraying how long he'd been waiting for her to lean in and let their lips join. 

And she could feel it. The air was charged with the soft drum rolls that preceded a first kiss, the feel of anticipation, of desire. Her breathing quickened at the heat in his eyes, and she pressed her hand flat out against his ribs. He was waiting for her to make the first move, and she was going to.

Laura’s fingers felt uneven skin just below Bill’s ribs and her gaze flicked to the spot in question, wondering what else had happened to him. But she suddenly realised what it was, what her brain had been looking for, and her stomach twisted. 

Seeing it was like an instantaneous cold shower, serving to remind her of who they were, and she took a step back, and then another. To think that he would have kept a tattoo from her after she’d left was ridiculous, but she hadn’t considered the fact he would’ve had it removed. He probably couldn’t have got rid of it fast enough. Now, only a mark was left to show what had once been there. But the mark screamed at her that she’d hurt him enough as it was, and didn’t need to do it any further. 

She couldn’t read Bill’s expression anymore as he spoke in a carefully levelled voice. “I’ll see Cottle.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “In the meantime, I can continue.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry. Again. For being inappropriate.” It wasn’t just inappropriate at this point. They couldn’t pretend to be simply friends, yet being more than that required a leap of faith that felt like too much.

Bill shook his head, picked up his tanks. “You don’t need to apologise. I’m going to shower. You’re welcome to stay if you want to.”

Before he could turn around, Laura called him back. “Can I ask you a question?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You don't usually ask before doing it.” He wasn’t wrong.

“Why do you still wear your wedding ring?” Laura asked, glancing at his left hand. It had thrown her off-balance at first, why he would keep it after being divorced fifteen years. Now she was simply curious. 

“It's complicated.”

“Yes, I imagine it is.”

“I’m not sure. I suppose, to remember how much I screwed up, what I should’ve been and I wasn’t.”

Laura took a moment to reflect on that, on their relationship that she’d screwed up, what she should’ve been and she wasn’t. “I should get myself one of those then,” she said in a tone she hoped would lighten the heavy mood instead of dwelling on her regrets. Maybe that was why she'd kept the tattoo, after all. Maybe that was her wedding ring.  


“I’m happy to let you borrow mine,” he replied, in a way that really had a double meaning and had her puzzled.


End file.
